


Cutting the Strings

by JuliassicPark



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Madoka Magica Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Faustian Bargain, Heavy Angst, M/M, Temporary Character Death, Timeloops, Trans Lio Fotia, Trans Male Character, accidentally selling your soul to the devil by not reading the terms and conditions, despite the tags this IS a happy story I swear, it's madoka idk what to tell you, we will get there I promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:55:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 61,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24344617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliassicPark/pseuds/JuliassicPark
Summary: Galo Thymos is a fairly normal guy. He lives happily with his mother and dog, hangs out with his friends, and extinguishes fires with his burning soul as part of the Promepolis Burning Rescue team.That is, until a mysterious being offers him the ability to magically grant any wish he desires. The only catch is that he must become a Burnish and battle evil daemons.What could be worth wishing for? What does it truly mean to be a Burnish?And who is the mysterious Burnish Lio Fotia?
Relationships: Gueira/Meis (Promare), Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 28
Kudos: 52





	1. Somnium

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Promare anniversary!!! 🎉🔥
> 
> This is just a small little teaser of the next project I'm working on. This is a fun AU idea I've been playing around with for a while. 
> 
> A big humongous gigantic thank you to co-creator, artist, and beta for this AU [ Purble!!!](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs)  
> She is the lovely artist that has created all of the character designs!  
> [ Lio's design! ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1264339475385090050)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> -Jabbles💕

The world is fire. 

All around Galo Thymos, flames curl and twist and roar. They fill all of his senses, nearly smothering him in their wrath and intensity. 

He is running, nearly sprinting, through the raging inferno. How did he get here? Where is the rest of his Burning Rescue team? Where is all his gear? There are so many questions, so many details that don’t quite line up in his hazy mind. At the same time, they seem like minor distant issues compared to the situation at hand. 

He needs to run.

He needs to save them all. 

That’s generally how Galo Thymos feels at all times, to be fair. His burning soul is always raring up and ready to go, ready to save anyone at the drop of a hat, to extinguish any blaze in his path! 

Except. 

Except this blaze is unlike one he’s ever seen before. Galo is well-acquainted with fires and how they operate; he’s dealt with them on a pretty frequent basis. He’s studied them, fought them, defeated fires of all shapes and sizes.

These are not normal. 

These flames swirl in a myriad of colors and hues and dance as if they are choreographed. They’re not wildly burning a swath of destruction, but rather, it’s almost as if they’re purposefully moving. Like they are reaching out towards him trying to entrap him, grab him in their heated clutches.

He is running down a seemingly never-ending corridor. Maybe it’s a hallway or maybe it’s a staircase. It’s so hard to tell. It almost feels as if it is warping around him, mocking him as he tries to figure his way out of this labyrinth. The multicolored flames disorient him, creating a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes that distorts and sends him even further into confusion.

The smoke stings his eyes, the flames roar in his ears, and the heat makes him sweat as Galo determinedly plants one foot in front of the other in a desperate attempt to get _somewhere._ Where exactly, he doesn’t know. He just _needs to._ He _has to._ Something is urging him forward. Something is pulling him in, telling him to keep going until he finds what he’s looking for. 

Finally, when he’s panting heavily and almost not sure he can go much further, he stumbles through a door. Thank goodness! Salvation, freedom, fresh air-

Galo’s breath catches in his throat. 

Where the hell is he now? 

He’s escaped the burning hallway and has ended up somewhere completely foreign. He’s standing on the edge of a death-defying drop. From his point of view, he can see more of those weirdly colored flames as well as what appear to be the crumbled remains of entire skyscrapers. Is this Promepolis? Why are some of the buildings floating?

In the sky, menacingly leering over the epicenter of the destruction, is some object. It’s shrouded in shadows, engulfed in flames, but it appears to be some kind of ship. It’s massive, supporting what looks like an entire mountain on its back. Is that what did this? 

There are odd geometric cutouts in the sky, reflecting misshapen patterns and bleeding flames of their own. Around his feet, some small creatures skitter past. When Galo looks down to see what they are, all he finds are weird everyday objects running around on spindly hand-drawn legs.

What the fuck?

A path conjures in front of him and Galo follows it without hesitation. If that thing - whatever it is - started all these fires, then he’s gonna have to take it down. Even if this fire is strange, even if he doesn’t know where he is, he’ll do whatever it takes. Weird flying volcano ship or not, a fire’s a fire and Galo Thymos will put it out with his burning soul. 

His attention is abruptly drawn to something else besides the being in the sky. Galo looks over towards one of the flaming buildings to see someone standing on top of it. Being the rescuer he is, he starts heading for them. That’s way too dangerous! There’s no way that’s structurally sound! What are they thinking?

As he gets closer, he is able to make out more of the mysterious stranger on the roof. He’s immediately taken aback by their striking appearance. 

They’re not scared at all. 

In fact, they appear to be determined, focused, ready for battle. Instead of being frightened, they’re glaring intensely at the shape in the sky. They adjust something on their wrist, then look over and make eye contact with Galo. 

Oh. 

They’re incredibly beautiful. 

In the heat of the blaze, Galo sees them acknowledge his presence. The raging wind fans their soft mint green hair as they gaze back at him with piercing magenta eyes. A long, black cape whips behind them, complementing their regal all-black outfit. Ruffled decorations on their jacket and sleeves ripple with the wind as they stare him down. They look extravagant. It’s more like an outfit for a prince than appropriate firefighting attire. 

Then, suddenly, they run and leap off the building. 

**“WAIT!”** Galo can’t help but call out. Do they have a fucking deathwish? Who the hell do they think they are? 

He watches as they fearlessly fall, almost seem to disappear for a moment, then land on another floating piece of rubble. They seem unfazed and gather their composure before reaching into some nearby flames. They aren’t bothered by the proximity at all.

What the-? Their hand is literally _on fire!_

The flames near them seem to respond to the person’s motion, and when they retrieve their hand, a brilliant opalescent bow rests in it, arrows already notched. 

The mysterious hero takes another running start and leaps high up into the sky. As they do, they start firing a flurry of arrows at their enemy while gracefully dodging and dancing around the debris being thrown at them. 

“Hey!” Galo calls out again. They pay him no mind. 

The beautiful stranger destroys an incoming chunk of building with some sort of blade before continuing their blitz attack. However, in their frenzy, they fail to see some nearby flames curling up and solidifying. They slam into the person, sending them flying through the air and crashing into another building. 

“Be careful!” Galo shouts. “Are you okay?” 

“It’s no use,” a new, unfamiliar voice says. “He cannot do this alone.” 

Galo turns around to see a fluffy white cat sitting at his feet. Is that what’s talking to him? 

“He knew that and came anyway,” the voice says.

“That idiot!” Galo exclaims. “No one can fight a fire like this alone!” Any good firefighter knows that every blaze is a team effort! Going into a fire alone is almost certain disaster!

The cat’s tail curls around its body as it sits and looks at him curiously. 

“He did not want to rely on anyone else,” they tell him. “He took this burden on alone.”

Galo watches as the mysterious prince comes to after being chucked into the concrete. He once again meets his eyes but this time with a more desperate expression. He opens his mouth to scream and shout something at Galo, but he can’t hear it over the rampaging inferno still surrounding them. 

“He cannot win as things stand right now.” 

“Oh no,” Galo utters. 

“But _you,_ Galo Thymos,” the voice continues. “You can do something about this.” 

**_“ME?”_** He’s surprised by the words. 

“You have the ability to end all this destruction, all this pain. The power to do so lies within you.” 

What do they mean? 

“I mean, I’m a great firefighter and all,” he says bashfully. “And I’m never one to shirk helping save someone, but what can I do like this?” He gestures to himself. He’s woefully unequipped to handle a blaze like this. “I want to save everyone I can! That’s the Galo Thymos way! But how can I?” 

“Like that, you can’t do anything,” they tell him plainly. “You are nothing.” 

Galo’s bravado wilts at the bluntness of the statement. “Oh.” 

“But that can be changed. You can gain the power to save _him,_ to save them all. You can rewrite this tragedy.” 

Just then, Galo watches as the princely man tries to reach him. He pushes off of some floating concrete, jumping powerfully in his direction. There’s a brief moment where Galo’s lost track of him, but then he reappears closer to where Galo is standing. The look on his face is pained and desperate and his eyes are wide and sparkle like the glittering fire surrounding them. He’s screaming, but Galo can’t make out what he’s saying.

He nearly makes it to Galo before more rocks appear and knock him off course, causing him to plummet into the abyss below. 

“If I have the power to save someone, then I gotta do it,” he decides. “Can I really stop this?”

“And more,” the cat says. 

They're being oddly cryptic. Really, he should be more concerned about what’s going on around him, but he can’t ignore someone in trouble. And for some reason, Galo feels an odd tug on his heart at that beautiful stranger falling. He tried to protect Galo. Galo must repay that. 

“How do I do it?” 

The cat jumps up on a nearby railing, balancing itself and smiling up at Galo, almost pleased with the situation. 

“Make a contract with me, and become a Burnish!”

* * *

Galo wakes up.

He’s breathing hard and his heart hammers in his chest. So that was all a dream…? 

Well, dreaming of fire isn’t that unusual for him. Whether that be the grand victory of defeating one or the haunting memories of that fateful night all those years ago. 

However, even if fire dreams are commonplace, this one still feels different somehow. Galo can’t quite put his finger on exactly why, but it does. Something about this is distinctly unfamiliar.

Galo sits up, throwing the blankets off of him as he starts to get ready for his day. As he does, the air blowing down on him from his ceiling fan cools his cheeks and he feels drops of water fall onto his neck. Huh? 

Galo reaches up and drags a finger through the corner of his eye. When he looks at the result, a teardrop indeed sits upon it. 

He's crying?

Why? 

Why does this morning feel so offbeat?

Why does his heart hang so heavy in his chest? 

Why does he feel forlorn about something he can't even describe?

It’s just a dream. 

Right?


	2. Occursus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bell above the door to Mario’s chimes once, signaling the arrival of a new customer, and Galo turns his head towards it. He’s here enough that he knows most of the regulars, so he expects to see a friend. 
> 
> Instead, he finds someone he’s simultaneously never and absolutely has seen before. They stroll in, their tall black boots clicking across the linoleum. 
> 
> It’s the man from his dream. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience! I've been hard at work writing for this fic and building up a backlog. I have 5 chapters written so far and I'm barely into the story, so it seems like it's gonna be another long one boys. 
> 
> A big humongous gigantic thank you to co-creator, artist, and beta for this AU [ Purbs!!!](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs)  
> She is the lovely artist that has created all of the character designs!  
> [ Lio ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1264339475385090050)  
> [ Galo ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465576312369152)  
> [ Gueira ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465651881062400)  
> [ Meis ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465759079120898)  
> [ Thyma ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465852272373760)  
> [ an evil kitty cat ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465957163495424)
> 
> Also we got INCREDIBLE fanart from the lovely Anna [ here! ](https://twitter.com/mahariiyuware/status/1273060612315193344) THEY'RE SO SOFT!!!!!
> 
> I hope I haven't kept you all waiting too long.  
> Enjoy!  
> -Jabbles💕

What a strange dream. Oddly melancholic, but Galo has no idea why. Something deep in his chest aches, like the hollow feeling of hopelessness settling deep in his core. How is he this affected by some stupid dream?

Galo shakes his head hard, trying to right his ship, to gather some semblance of balance. He can’t let this odd dream (nightmare?) bother him when he’s at work. He needs to put this out of his mind and get on with his day.

Short, staccato yips echo from the other room, and Galo knows it must be Matoi wanting to go out. Taking one last deep, settling breath, he scrubs a hand down his face and wipes away the wet remnants.

When he pads into the living room, Matoi greets him happily, wagging her tail as she circles his feet. In her excited state, Galo can see some of her fur falling off and floating through the air through the morning sunbeams. Great, now he’ll have to vacuum that up later. Of course, he’s not really that upset with her. How could he be upset at such a good good girl? She probably just needs a summer cut soon.

Galo lets Matoi out into their small backyard and starts to make some quick breakfast. Normally, he’d jump in the shower right about now, but since he’s about to hit the gym, that seems kinda pointless. He’s in the middle of pouring cereal when his mother’s bedroom door opens. 

“Morning!” she calls out to him before walking towards the bathroom. 

“Morning, Mom!” he greets back. 

Now some people might say it’s lame to live with your mom at a solid 23 years old, but Galo doesn’t agree with them. No, in fact, he’s fucking _proud_ of it. They’re a great team, a solid one-two punch, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. They’ve gotta stick together.

He goes to the firehouse and battles wicked flames while she goes to the elementary school and teaches the next generation.

They’re both saving the world in their own ways. 

A second bowl of cereal is poured and set out for her as Galo sits at their small dining table. He absentmindedly scrolls through his phone, checking his socials and a pretty stupid new tik tok trend.

He also notices that Gueira’s also sent him like 12 texts, which for him isn’t _that_ unheard of, but instead of memes and reaction pics it’s him desperately asking Galo for advice at 1 in the morning. Surely he knew that Galo wouldn’t be awake then?

Well even if he did, the information did little to slow him down. It’s a conglomeration of keysmashes, all caps, and a lot of pleas and cries for help. Galo can only sigh and wonder what he’s gotten himself into this time.

From what he can gather, Gueira had a minor freak out about running into an ex last night. Certainly not the best of situations, but hardly one that requires an entire wall of frantic text messages. Galo skims them, getting the gist of the unfortunate encounter.

He doesn’t respond though, since they’re supposed to meet up for lunch before Galo has to head to work. He’ll just ask for the gossip then. Well, he probably won’t need to ask. Knowing Gueira, he won’t be able to stop explaining his crisis in extreme detail with exaggerated gestures. 

But hey, Galo’s a good friend, and he’s always willing to help a buddy out. And pizza always goes great with relationship turmoil, right? 

Not that Galo would really know. His last relationship was over four years ago and he got dumped so hard they moved to another continent. Needless to say, it didn't work out. 

But even with the lack of experience, pizza always helps when you’re going through a rough time. That much he does know.

Suddenly, Matoi starts barking like mad, tearing him out of the text chain. It’s a surprisingly loud, aggressive bark. It’s not like a “I’m going to bark at the people walking by!” bark; it’s a snarling, almost protective noise.

What could have caused her to react like that? Matoi isn’t one to just start barking up a tempestuous storm at the mailman or local joggers. That isn’t like her. Galo quickly gets up from the table to figure out what set his Sheltie off.

“Matoi!” he yells at her as he rips the sliding door open. He finds her barking at the fence lining the back of their yard. She’s almost menacingly growling at whatever it is, but from Galo can see, there isn’t anything there. Maybe out of the corner of his eye there’s a quickly darting shadow, but it’s nothing substantial enough to cause such a reaction from her.

“Matoi!” he calls again. Finally, she seems to get the message and turns away from whatever caught her attention. It was probably just a squirrel or stray cat that got too close or something. Still, Galo wonders why she got so worked up over just a normal critter. Doesn’t she see them all the time? 

They both come back inside just as Maria Thymos emerges from their shared bathroom in a cozy bathrobe and slippers and takes her seat at the table.

“Thanks,” she says, nodding at the breakfast in front of her. 

“Course!” Galo grins, returning to his own seat after feeding Matoi her own breakfast. 

His mom must notice him glancing at his phone between chewing bits of cereal, because her azure eyes begin to twinkle in curiosity. 

“Oh, what’s that?” Maria asks with a teasing lilt in her voice. “Texting someone this early?” 

She always loves to tease him about his love life (and the pathetic lack of one), so that’s nothing new. 

Galo rolls his eyes at her. “No, Mom. You know if I met someone, I’d tell you.” 

“Good.” She seems thoroughly satisfied with the answer. “So what is it, then?”

“Gueira saw his ex yesterday, I guess,” Galo tells her. “Seemed to send him into a spiraling existential crisis.” 

“That boy,” Maria laughs. “And here I was thinking you were the dramatic one.”

“I AM!” Galo loudly declares after swallowing a mouthful of cereal. “And don’t you forget it!” 

“I don’t think I could if I tried,” his mother replies. “You’ve always been that way since you were just a boy!”

“Mooom,” he groans at her. He doesn’t want to get into more embarrassing kid Galo talk, so he tries to change the subject. “How’re the kids? Behaving?” he asks. 

“Well, I don’t know if I told you, but yesterday Phoebe stole all of the purple crayons from Gloria. She was not happy about it.” 

Galo gasps dramatically, placing a delicate hand over his chest. _“No.”_

“Yes! I had to give her ‘sharing is caring’ talk. _Again.”_

“Tsk tsk.” Galo shakes his head. “When will they learn?”

“Hopefully soon,” Maria groans emphatically. “I don’t want to call her mom again. One of those _‘my baby can do no wrong’_ types. So entitled.”

“Hey,” Galo offers. “Maybe this time’ll be the charm. You never know, right? And purple crayons are a big deal.”

She sighs. “God I hope so. That woman is just such a-.”

“Mom!” Galo exclaims before she can finish the sentence. 

“What?” his mother looks at him teasingly. “I was going to say a _‘Karen’_.” 

Galo blinks at her, a little impressed by her knowledge of the term. “You know what that means?” 

“Mr. Mitakihara taught it to us in the teacher’s lounge the other day,” Maria laughs. “It fits so many of the parents we have to deal with. I’m definitely going to keep using it.”

“My own mother being on top of memes. I’m so damn proud.” He pretends to wipe a tear away from his eye. 

“See?” she gestures to him. _“Dra-Ma-Tic.”_

They wrap up their breakfast before Galo grabs his bag from his room. Along the way, he gives Matoi a nice scritch behind the ears. 

“I probably won’t see you until tomorrow,” he tells the two most important girls in his life. “I’m goin’ to the gym, then to lunch, then to work.”

“Okay,” Maria accepts. “I’ll be sure to walk Matoi tonight then. Be safe, sweetie!”

“You know I always am. Galo Thymos, the best firefighter around!” he replies with a cocksure wink. “Love you!” Galo gives her a quick kiss on the cheek before he heads out. He’ll always be a Mama’s Boy. Through and through. 

One solid workout and subsequent shower later, Galo’s about to make his way downtown for some pizza. He’s in the parking lot of the gym, approaching his motorcycle, when he feels an odd chill move its way down his spine. It’s subtle, like a cold breeze suddenly blowing in on an otherwise sunny and clear day. It’s that ominous moment that pulls on your gut before a storm hits, that tells you that the current peace isn’t built to last.

Galo writes it off as a simple trick of the wind and keeps walking.

But as he swings one leg over the seat, he feels it again, thicker this time. The breeze blows against him like a warning, like someone is watching his every move. 

He whips his head around the parking lot in search of the presence. All he finds is a family and a couple walking towards the entrance, and none of them are paying him any mind.

God, is he losing it? He’s in broad fucking daylight! Nothing can sneak up on him.

Hell, nothing can sneak up on him even at night! He’s Galo Thymos, Firefighter Extraordinaire! Trained to battle infernos and extinguish every single fire on earth! He stares down any fire that appears in his path and always comes out victorious! He is always aware of his surroundings! At all times! 

But once again, despite his searching, he can’t find anything out of the ordinary. It’s just a simple parking lot. 

You know, maybe he’s just hungry. Maybe this is his stomach’s way of telling him it needs more food. Yeah, that’s probably it. He needs some pizza, **stat.**

Galo revs up his motorcycle and takes off towards Mario’s Pizza.

Mario’s is hands down his favorite pizza place in Promepolis. The owner knows his order by heart and even drops the price down just for him after a rather unfortunate oven incident that Galo and Burning Rescue helped clean up last year. It’s a small corner shop, the kind of place that only the true Promepolis locals know about while the tourists flock to far more inferior establishments. Their loss. 

Galo zips through the busy streets until he comes upon Mario’s and its small parking lot attached in the back. Taking a quick glance, he sees Gueira’s bright red car (he claimed it had to be as cool as he was, but his budget did not allow for the hot rod of his dreams. He settled for a Honda Civic instead) and he parks next to it. 

There it is again. 

That feeling that he’s being watched. That sinister feeling that he’s balanced on a precipice he isn’t even aware of. As if he could unexpectedly fall any moment. 

It’s simultaneously worrying and comforting. Like, it’s nice that something or someone is looking out for him, but why are they watching him in the first place? Why him? Unless they’re just in awe of his firefighting prowess and his muscles that he just worked so hard at the gym. 

“Hello?” Galo calls out, hoping to maybe encourage them. “You can come talk to me! I don’t bite!” 

There’s no response. 

“Hello?” he tries one more time. 

There’s a slight shuffle by some trash cans, but it’s just some cat. Galo shrugs. “Suit yourself.” 

When he enters the restaurant, he immediately spots Gueira at their usual table. He waves at his friend and at Mario behind the counter. The wonderful aroma of melting cheese and spicy tomato sauce fills his nostrils. 

“Hey Chief!” he greets. 

“Welcome back, Galo! Gueira told me you were coming, so your usual is already cooking.”

Galo gives him a big thumbs up. “You’re the best!” 

He slides into the familiar booth as Gueira flashes him a quick smile as he sips his Sprite. 

“Hey Gueira.”

“Hey dude.” 

There’s a new cut on his cheek under his glasses that Galo doesn’t remember seeing before. He points at it. “What’s that?” 

Gueira looks confused for a moment before realization strikes through his face. “Oh yeah you haven’t seen me in a few days. I got that from practice. Practicing defense against a blitz and I was helping out as a man on the field. I tried to go easy on ‘em since y’know, they’re _kids,_ but I guess I went too easy. Took me right to the ground. I hadn’t bothered to pad up completely cuz’ I was just hoppin’ in for a quick drill.” 

“Wow,” Galo, hiding his quickly spilling giggles with a hand. “You were tackled by a sixth grader?”

“A big sixth grader!” Gueira reasons. “And I was goin’ easy on him!” 

“Suuure.”

“Really!” Gueira is pouting, his pride sufficiently broken. 

“I know, I know,” Galo relents. “It’s still really fuckin’ funny.”

Gueira chuckles a bit himself. “Heh, yeah it is. Jason wouldn’t stop making fun of me about it.”

“He wasn’t the one that did it, was he?” Gueira’s little brother is pretty small, even for a twelve-year-old. 

Gueira shakes his head. “Nah, he’s not a defensive line guy.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” he replies. “Though it would be pretty impressive if little Jason Valente managed to take down his amazing big bro!”

Gueira smiles, laughing once, but there’s a hint of gloom in it. “Yeah…”

It’s subtle, but Galo notices it. He’s been friends with Gueira for long enough to pick up on some things. “What’s up?” 

Gueira’s head sharply rises, like he hadn’t expected Galo to catch his tone shift. “Oh,” he says. “It’s just Jason, I guess.”

Galo frowns and pries a little further. “Somethin’ up with him? School goin’ okay?”

“Yeah, he’s acing his classes, that genius,” Gueira tells him, fondness filling his features. “It’s just. He wants to play football so bad and Phil just keeps benching him.”

Galo’s heard this complaint before. “Yeah that sucks. But can’t you talk to him about it?” he offers. “I mean, you’re a coach too. Surely that’s gotta mean something, right?”

Gueira sighs. “I’ve tried, but Phil’s all like _‘He’s just not the right build. He needs to bulk up before I can put him out there. I don’t want him getting hurt.’_ Which like, _okay,_ I get it, but still, let him play a fuckin quarter, y’know? It’s so-!” he loudly groans, head collapsing into the table. 

“That’s real shitty,” Galo agrees. 

“I knooow!” Gueira laments into the table, his glasses tapping the wood. “And then on top of that there’s all this shit that just happened with my ex and-!”

Gueira’s voice, despite its intensity, fades to a din as Galo’s attention is immediately pulled towards something else. The bell above the door to Mario’s chimes once, signaling the arrival of a new customer, and Galo turns his head towards it. He’s here enough that he knows most of the regulars, so he expects to see a friend. 

Instead, he finds someone he’s simultaneously never and absolutely has seen before. They stroll in, their tall black boots clicking across the linoleum. 

It’s the man from his dream. 

It’s uncanny, almost. The mint hair framing his face, his lithe limbs, his piercing magenta eyes. He’s not dressed as grandly as he was in Galo’s dream, but he’s still just as striking. Today, he’s sporting some tight black jeans, a crisp white shirt, and a dark jacket. In his hair is a thin black headband, and a shiny black triangular earring dangles from one ear. 

The mysterious new arrival turns towards Galo and they make eye contact. 

As they do, the man gives him the strangest expression. It’s filled with melancholy with just the barest hint of longing. It echoes of something Galo can’t understand, can’t even begin to fathom, but it is absolutely _mesmerizing._

Everything about him is grabbing Galo’s attention, pulling him in and holding him there. His magenta eyes are filled with such deep emotion that Galo thinks he could drown in them. Something wraps around his heart and tugs, almost a tangible pull from the center of his chest. 

Then quickly, without warning, the man turns away, swiftly walking towards the counter. 

“And like, we weren’t really _exes_ exes. It was this kinda unspoken thing? We never did nothin’ but I’m pretty sure I loved him and he loved me. And then he just up and left! Without a fuckin’ word and-!”

The dream prince places his order with Mario and sits by himself at one of the tall counters lining the windows. 

“And then last night, I swear I saw him across the street. I was like _‘Hey, that looks like Meis!’_ but I didn’t wanna get my hopes up, y’know? It’s been five years, who knows how shit could’ve changed and-”

The stranger pulls out his phone and taps on it a bit, keeping his back turned to Galo. 

“So I try to get a better look and whaddaya know, it _was_ him! It had to be! Unless Meis had a twin brother I never knew about. But then like the idiot I am I couldn’t stop myself from shouting his name-”

The man starts to turn his head in Galo’s direction. Galo quickly looks down at the table, afraid to be caught staring.

“So like an asshole I shout _‘Meis!’_ and he just stops walking. At first, I was all like _‘Oh shit I got it wrong’_ but then he turned around and gave me this look like he knew who I was. Then he was all-”

Galo peeks one eye up from where his gaze was fixated on the table. The green-haired prince is back looking at his phone. Mario delivers his order to him, and he quietly thanks the owner. 

“Hey? Earth to Galo?” Gueira waves his hands in front of his face. “You in there, bud? I’m having a wholeass crisis here and you’re just staring off into space?!” 

“Oh!” he exclaims, blood rushing to his cheeks and straightening his posture. “Uh, sorry.”

“You’re not this much of a space cadet usually,” Gueira remarks, bringing his arms up behind his head. “What’s up with you, dude?”

“Do you know who that is?” he asks quietly, almost embarrassed.

“Who what is?”

_“Him,”_ Galo harshly whispers, subtly pointing at the object of his attention. 

Gueira looks over at the mysterious dream man, squinting and trying to figure them out. 

“Don’t think so. Why?” 

God, how does he even start to explain this? 

“He just looks so familiar,” Galo decides on saying. That seems innocent enough. No need to dig into it further.

“Well, where do ya think you’ve seen him?” Gueira asks him. 

Galo gulps. That is not the question he wants to have to answer. “You’re gonna think it’s weird.” 

“Try me.”

“Okay…” he sighs. “I think I saw him… in a dream. Last night.” 

Gueira balks at him. “Dude, _no.”_

“I know!” he exclaims before lowering his volume again to a harsh whisper. “I know it’s like, not possible! But I can’t get it out of my head!” 

“Y’know…” Gueira considers, rubbing his chin. “Maybe it’s like fate or some shit. Maybe you’re destined to meet this beautiful stranger. Maybe this is your fated meeting at Mario’s Pizza!”

“Oh please,” Galo refutes. “Shit like that doesn’t exist.”

“How do you know?” Gueira challenges. “What other explanation do you have?” 

That’s a fair point. “Maybe I’m just mistaken.” Galo shrugs unconvincingly. “But still…”

“Still what?”

Galo thinks back to the stranger’s captivating expression. “The way he looked at me…”

“ _Oh my god,”_ Gueira groans. “Am I seriously watching you have love at first sight right now?” 

“It’s nothing like that!” he quickly denies, though his cheeks heat up even further. “I just…” How does he phrase this? “I want to talk to him.” 

“Well, I won’t stop you. Seems like you gotta get this outta your system before you’re ready to handle my problems.”

The dream prince has finished his pizza and is about to leave the restaurant. And for some unexplainable reason, Galo can’t stop himself from standing up and following him.

It’s the oddest thing, this impulsive feeling that he needs to speak to this person. It’s important, but Galo doesn't know why. It just feels important, somehow. He just knows. Something has encircled him and is magnetically pulling him towards this stranger and he's decided that he's not going to fight it. 

He follows the stranger out of the restaurant and down the alley that leads to the back parking lot.

“Wait!” Galo calls out. He hates the way his voice sounds right now. It’s pathetic, almost desperate sounding. Why is he so affected by this?

At his outburst, the stranger abruptly stops right in his tracks.

Galo seems to have at least caught him before his departure then. He’s not sure what he wants to ask, why he’s even in this situation in the first place, so he just does what he normally does: blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

“Who are you?” 

At the question, the stranger turns around to face Galo directly. His eyes seem less somber than before. There’s a determined glint in them. He stands in the alleyway taking up space and blocking the path, but it’s not an antagonistic stance, just a declarative one. 

“Lio. Lio Fotia.”

His voice is deep and powerful, smooth and echoing off of the concrete around them. Galo freezes, unable to respond for a few moments before he remembers he’s supposed to introduce himself too.

“I’m Galo!” he tells Lio. “Galo Thymos! Firefighter Extraordinaire!” 

“Galo Thymos…” he repeats almost breathlessly. The words hang heavily in the air. 

“Let’s talk.” 

It’s said with such conviction that Galo immediately finds himself nodding in agreement before his rationality can catch up with him. He’s in the middle of an alleyway with someone he’s never met before and who seems oddly confrontational.

Is this really a good idea? Should he back out? It is only lunchtime. If he needed to, he could run out into the street for help. Plus, Lio looks pretty small compared to him. He could probably take him if he had to. Though something in the back of his mind is telling him that’s not necessarily the case. 

“Galo Thymos,” Lio states clearly, dragging Galo out of his internal ruminations. “Do you enjoy your life?” 

“Do I- **_HUH?”_** he squawks, utterly confused. Who fucking asks that to start a conversation?

Lio narrows his eyes and mouth flattens into a thin line. “Do you enjoy the life you have right now?” he asks again sternly. “Do you cherish it?”

That’s a very oddly threatening way to phrase that. Galo’s starting to feel that cold wind of ominous uncertainty again. 

“Uhh…” he trails off, unsure how one is expected to answer such a question. “Yes?” 

Lio barrels on undeterred. “Do you care about your friends and family?”

“Of course I do?” He says it more as a question. It’s a true statement of course - Galo loves his friends and family dearly - but he’s more perplexed by the man in front of him. “Why are you asking me all this? You don’t even know me.” 

Lio’s carefully manicured expression slips just the tiniest bit as he turns his head and fixes his gaze on the concrete wall. “You’re right,” he replies coldly. “I don’t.” 

“Do you want to?” Galo offers. Maybe reaching out a friendly hand to a mysterious possibly dream man isn’t the smartest idea, but somehow Galo’s not worried. Despite the several warning flags, something in his burning soul is reassuring him that he’s not really in danger.

When it comes to fighting fires, knowledge and strategy is important. You cannot go in blind. However, not thinking and trusting your gut is just as important. When you’re facing down a chaotic beast that will stop at nothing to destroy you and everything around you, then you can’t afford to spend too long thinking of the best way to handle things. 

So Galo knows to trust his burning soul. 

And Lio isn’t blatantly threatening him. 

So why not try?

The question definitely affects him. Lio bites his lip and turns back to face Galo once again. There is an unspoken question in his eyes. The alley is shrouded in shadow - the midday sun is blocked by the high rises around them - but somehow, despite that, his eyes seem to **glow.**

Almost like the embers of a fire. 

He doesn't answer the question. 

“If you truly treasure your life,” Lio continues. “Then you wouldn’t do anything to change it, right?”

Galo ponders on that for a brief moment. “I guess not? I love my mom and my friends and my job. I put out every fire I see so that I can save people!” 

Lio tilts his head curiously. “Well, if you’re already extinguishing fires and saving people, then you wouldn’t need to do it more, now would you?” 

“I’m already the best!” Galo loudly declares, jabbing a thumb in the direction of his burning soul. “What more would I need?” 

Lio appears pleased by this answer. “You don’t need anything. You’re _you,_ Galo.” He takes a few steps forward, closing the distance between them in the already cramped alley. He stops when he is but a step away and looks right into Galo’s eyes with that piercing gaze of his. 

“And you should stay that way.” 

He turns on his heels and walks away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the first Madoka/Homura interaction so you know I just _had_ to include it! 
> 
> Some background:  
> -Galo and Gueira are friends from college. They met as workout buddies and formed a fast friendship.  
> -Gueira volunteers as the middle school football team's assistant coach. His little brother Jason is on the team. More on this later 👀  
> -Matoi is a Sheltie because I have a Sheltie and I love Projecting  
> -The character of Maria Thymos is from [ tongue tied ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21006716/chapters/49958186) by the amazing [ van! ](https://twitter.com/danganphobia) She is being borrowed with permission so thank you very much!
> 
> I'm about to go out of town so I'm not sure how much time I'll have to write so I'm thinking updates every two weeks to start. I'm building a rhythm but I still have far to go. 
> 
> I also made a [ Lio playlist! ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5VR2kBUeDcKUV8xbkL2UGZ?si=uKUjQHa_RrOykBTKUZ6XDw) Purbs & I are working on playlists for the other characters as well.
> 
> Hit me up here or on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/ashesfadein2gay) or my [ curiouscat! ](https://curiouscat.me/jabbles)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! Please leave kudos and comments and all that love 💖  
> See you soon!


	3. Vulgaris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Save me! Help!”_
> 
> “Someone’s still in there! They need help!” 
> 
> Before anyone can stop him, Galo rushes back in on foot, desperate to find whoever needs his aid. Galo Thymos never stops until everyone is safe! He doesn’t even bother to use his Matoi - just runs in on foot through the debris and ash. No time to waste!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! 
> 
> Sorry for being a week late! I was on vacation with my family. It was a much needed break from the dumpster fire that is 2020. Isolation was really getting to me, and I'm doing much better now!
> 
> Also, each chapter of this fic will be a Latin word or phrase. I took 3 years of Latin and I finally get to use that skill, lol.  
>  _Vulgaris:_ everyday, ordinary, of the common people
> 
> Again, a huge thank you to my partner in crime [ purbs!!!](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs)  
> She has been an incredible help working on this and providing beautiful art and ideas. I wouldn't be able to do this without her 💖
> 
> This chapter doubles the length of the current story, so enjoy! 
> 
> -Jabbles💕

Gueira is annoyed.

Actually, he’s moving past annoyed and is quickly venturing into “actually pissed off” territory.

What a fuckin’ day he’s had.

First, yesterday, he once again tried to convince Phil to let Jason play, to no avail. They’ve got a game on Saturday - their first big one of the season - but Coach is still not budging, adamant that he’s not ready. Which like, okay, Gueira understands safety and rules and regulations and all that shit, he’s lived it himself, but _c’mon._ Surely he can see Jason’s passion for the game, right? His playmaking skills? Size or not, decision-making is a big part of the game, and that should count for something.

And yeah, maybe it’s also an old wound of his own too. Being told that you’re too skinny, too scrawny, you can’t play with your asthma - he’s heard every excuse under the fucking sun. So to see the same words being thrown at his own little brother, well, it may have ignited some old flames that to be honest, never truly burnt out. 

Gueira refuses to let them do to Jason what they did to him. He won’t let that happen. If he can help it, Jason Valente is going to be the star of the Argo Middle School Golden Bears. 

But first, he has to fucking _play._

So yeah, that whole fiasco had already sent him into one of his fucking moods. He’d nearly stormed off after practice, probably would’ve driven to a bar or the boxing gym if he wasn’t Jason’s ride. Still, he wasn’t going to just abandon his brother, so he took them both back to his mom’s place for dinner.

Gueira still felt antsy afterwards, so before heading home, he took a walk to just get rid of that pent-up energy and to blow off some steam. 

And that’s when he saw Meis. 

As if he didn’t need more shit going on in his life, well, suddenly, here’s his missing kinda-is-kinda-isn’t ex from five years ago that left without so much as a single “goodbye” or “see you later” and whom Gueira was pretty sure he would never see again. 

Here he is, just walking around Promepolis as if nothing’s changed.

And then Gueira, with his massive intelligence, rather than just thinking all this to himself or stalking him on social media or something, instead just blurted out Meis’s name with no preamble. 

Yeah, real fuckin’ smooth. 

He half-expected them to just tell him to fuck off or something. Like, exclaiming someone’s name in the street at night? How is that not creepy? He probably looked like a maniac! And he didn’t even know if he was right! 

Well, actually, he’s pretty sure he was, because that dude looked totally like Meis. Which, wow. Gueira really thought he’d never see him again.

They danced around each other their senior year of high school, playing that “will they, won’t they'' game until after graduation, when Gueira finally gathered up the courage to do something about their close-friendship-maybe-more.

And then Meis was gone.

Without a single fucking trace. 

He’d tried reaching out; calling, texting, anything he could think of, but he was just full ghosted. Radio silence.

It sucked. Royally. 

And so, he’d moved on with his life.

For the most part. 

Even all these years later, there was always that small part of him that wondered what happened, whether they really even had something or if it was just all in his head. 

But Meis (not Meis? Probably Meis) seemed to recognize him. So Gueira’s pretty sure it was him. But after that moment of eye contact and recognition, he continued on his way. Even if it was Meis and he did recognize Gueira, he didn’t seem like talking.

So he probably blew his chance, huh? 

And that leads Gueira to today, where he wanted nothing more than to lament his woes with his best friend, a cold Sprite, and a warm, spicy pizza. 

But then Galo just went full gay and stopped listening to him as soon as that attractive stranger walked in the door. 

_Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh._

Is he even going to come back? Their food has finally arrived, and Gueira starts eating a slice of his own. He chomps down on it petulantly, annoyed at the current pathetic, pitiful state of his life. Can’t Galo see that he’s in the middle of a crisis? Multiple crises? And somehow, a random prettyboy is more enticing than his own friend going through some shit.

It’s honestly surprising that Galo got as affected as he did. He’s not usually the type of guy to hit on a random stranger, let alone get all existential and dreamy about them. 

Whatever.

Gueira’s halfway done angrily inhaling his pizza when the bell chimes once again, signaling Galo’s return. 

The look on his face is certainly different than how it was when he left. When Galo skedaddled after that potential love at first sight, he seemed utterly transfixed, nearly had stars in his eyes. Now, he’s almost… pensive? It’s a pretty big 180. 

“Well?” Gueira asks expectantly when Galo slides back into the booth and begins devouring his pizza. “Did you get a number?”

Galo sputters, almost choking on his Inferno Volcano Margherita Megamax. 

“N-No!” he coughs before downing more of his own pop. “It wasn’t like that.” 

“You sure?” Gueira deadpans with a Look. “You seemed pretty smitten by your _~dream man~.”_

“I-” Galo frowns, looking into his pizza for answers and not finding any. “I just had to know I wasn’t crazy,” he finally answers quietly.

“And?” he pries. “Are you?”

“I don’t think so?” Galo replies. “I got his name: Lio Fotia. Then he started asking me questions about whether I liked my life.”

That's unusual. “He asked you questions? Like what?”

“Like if I’m good at my job. And whether I appreciate my friends and family. And how if I want to protect them, I shouldn’t change things. I won’t lie, it seemed pretty odd, but-” 

Gueira’s pizza slice slaps wetly onto his plate. 

_“Dude.”_

Galo looks at him confused, blinking a few times with a frown on his face. “Is that weird?”

**“WEIRD?”** he screeches. “He fucking _threatened_ you! How are you okay with this?!” Gueira begins to stand up before a big hand clamps on his shoulder. “That fucker I-”

“Wait.” Galo’s face isn’t angry. He looks deep in thought more than anything. “He seemed… nice, in a way.”

“You’re _defending_ him???” Gueira balks, an edge of incredulity in his voice. “What did he do to you? I should go kick his ass right fucking now I-” 

“Gueira.” Galo’s face is sincere. “Don’t. I know he didn’t want to hurt me.” 

“How can you be so sure?” Gueira challenges, raising an eyebrow and keeping his fists clenched and ready. 

Galo purses his lips, pondering this question for a moment. “My burning soul told me,” he finally answers. “And I trust that.” 

Gueira shakes his head with a huff. “I still think I should get up from this table and knock his lights out for cornering you in a fucking alley and threatening you, but if you’re not sore about it, then I guess it’s fine.” He grumbles a bit. “But if he does some shit like that to you ever again, it’s _on sight._ I don’t care how hot you find him.” 

Galo has once again stopped listening to him completely, his eyes fixated on the door and window seat that was just occupied by the mysterious man. 

“Lio Fotia…” he murmurs quietly, trailing off in a pensive sigh.

He’s such a goner.

“You ready to help me with my shit now?” Gueira annoyedly asks him over another slice. 

“What?” He shakes himself out of it. “Oh, yeah, sure.” 

Such a fucking goner. 

“Yeah, so as I was sayin’,” Gueira resumes. “I never thought I’d see him again and then **WHAM!** There he was in front of me and I just shouted for him.” 

“And he recognized you?” 

Gueira nods. “‘M pretty sure he did. I’d bet my right ankle on it.”

Galo chuckles to himself at that. “An odd choice, but alright. So, did you get a number?”

Damn, Galo throwing his own words back at him, the bastard. Gueira smirks, jutting his chin out in a nod. “Not bad, Thymos,” he concedes. “But no, I didn’t. Unfortunately, I’m a fuckin’ coward and I just ran when he recognized me. **UGH!”**

“Who is this guy again? Can we social media stalk him?” Galo asks. 

“Meis Denton. And you can’t, I’ve tried,” Gueira sighs. “Guy’s been dark even since he ditched this place after high school.”

“You never heard anything?” 

Gueira shakes his head. “Not a single fuckin’ thing. That’s why seeing him shocked me so much!” He shoves another slice in his mouth in frustration. 

“Well, I can see why this warranted an avalanche of texts at 2 AM,” Galo remarks sarcastically. 

“Can it or I go after your twink.”

Galo snorts. “You wouldn’t. Also, he’s not mine. I literally just met him, geez.”

“Thought you met him last night? In your _~dreams~,”_ Gueira teases. 

“Okay now you can it or I go find your lost cowboy and tell him how much you missed him all these years.”

Gueira stalls. “How’d you know he was a cowboy?” 

“Dude, I read your texts.”

“Oh.”

“Also, you’ve drunkenly told me this story like, at least three times. Got all weepy about it, too.” 

“Well,” Gueira huffs, cramming the last slice in. “He fucked with my heart. Left without a word. I was pissed.” 

“Yeah, rightfully so,” Galo agrees. “But there’s probably more going on than you know. I think that’s all the more reason for you to go find him and really talk with him. Catch up, at least.”

Gueira sighs. “You’re probably right. It’s just a lot of emotions and memories I don’t need to deal with when I’m already busy with the team and my job which-” he glances at his watch. “Starts in a few. _Great.”_ He begins packing up his things. As he’s about to leave, he turns around to say one last thing to Galo. 

“I mean it, though. If that Lio guy fucks with you again, I will come for his ass. No hesitation.” 

“Roger that. Thanks for looking out for me,” Galo replies with a mock salute. “Now go before the ice cream machine breaks again. See ya!”

Gueira heads into his shift the same way as always: a little dejected, a little annoyed, and hoping that as few people show up as possible. He cannot deal with another entire youth soccer team barging in and all demanding McNuggets right now, not with everything else going on. 

McDonald’s was never supposed to be the end all be all of careers for him. It wasn’t even supposed to be a long-term thing, but that’s where he’s at right now.

His dreams that once seemed within reach now lay far away, in the homes of stadiums and fans cheering his name. When his body failed to deliver on that promise and those dreams faded into nothing but yearning fantasies, he decided that if he couldn’t be the one playing, well, he could at least be on the field. 

Unfortunately, being the assistant head coach of a local middle school football team is viewed as more of a “volunteer” position and Gueira needs money from _somewhere._ He’s got a place of his own and Promepolis rent is stupidly high. Some might say he should just move back in with his family, but he doesn’t want to burden them more than he already has. They need all the money they can get to support Jason and themselves.

He won’t allow them to struggle like he did. 

So he swallows whatever pride he has left, dons the stupid visor and ugly colored shirt, and smells like fries all day just to make his ends meet. The only thing keeping him going is the belief that maybe one day he’ll get a real head coaching position. You know, the ones that actually pay money. But he’s just 24 right now and he himself didn’t play ball in college or professionally, so who knows how long it’ll take for him to get there. 

In the meantime, he hands out small fries and McNuggets and on the very rare occasion that it’s working, ice cream. 

Overall, despite his crazy past 24 hours, Gueira has a pretty normal shift today. There aren’t too many angry people in the drive thru, and there’s only one major spill that he draws the short straw on and has to clean up. Not bad considering the shitshow his life was before he stepped into work today.

By 9 PM, he’s clocked out and ready to just go home. He’s just about to head back to his car when all of a sudden, a construction site across the street bursts into flames. It looks like it was some half-built apartments, but it’s hard to tell because the whole thing is ablaze, lighting up the night in an eerie orange glow in a matter of moments. 

The entire structure is engulfed in flame, smoke billowing into the sky. Even all the way where he is, Gueira can feel the heat on his cheeks. He glances back inside the restaurant to see patrons and staff already frantically calling emergency services. 

Well, he might as well stick around then. Burning Rescue is known for their expediency and teamwork. And he knows for a fact Galo’s on call right now. 

It’d be cool to see him in action. 

Gueira leans against the wall and waits to see the red and blue flashing lights show up. 

* * *

When Galo makes it the fire station, the afternoon sun is just starting to trickle in. He’s got a lovely 24 hours ahead of him for this night and subsequent day shift, but it’s fine. To be honest, these shifts are nicer since as soon as he’s off, he can sleep and get somewhat of a normal schedule after. 

As he parks his bike in the garage of Burning Rescue, Galo gathers himself and focuses on the job ahead. As much as that interaction? altercation? meeting with Lio Fotia is still weighing on his mind (plus that still unshakeable feeling that _something_ is watching him), he’s gotta be zeroed in, ready to do whatever is necessary to protect Promepolis and its citizens. Galo Thymos needs to always be ready to extinguish any fire in his path! 

Especially since lately, fires have become more and more frequent. It’s almost to the point where the police are considering investigating a possible serial arsonist. Why someone would enjoy burning down someone’s livelihood, putting people and pets and everything in between in danger, Galo just can’t understand. 

Fires destroy and hurt and leave nothing but pain behind. 

He learned that at far too young an age. 

Galo heads to his locker, spying Aina grabbing stuff out of her own. 

“Hey Aina!” he calls out to her. 

Aina smiles, her signature pink hair down as she grabs a hair tie out of her locker. “Hey,” she greets back. “You’re late.” 

“EH?” Galo quickly looks at his phone, checking the time. It’s 3 PM on the dot. “No I’m right on time! Look!” He brandishes the phone, displaying the time in big white numbers over a picture of Matoi. 

“Yeah, you’re right on time for a normal person,” Aina explains as she pulls her hair back. “But for _you,_ Galo, you’re late. You’re usually here an hour in advance. Sometimes two.”

Galo gives her a puzzled look as he thinks about that statement. Does he actually show up that early most days? Okay, sure, he has come in early for some shifts because he was antsy and didn’t have anything better to do, but it wasn’t _that_ much, was it? And is that really that bad of a thing? He just really really loves firefighting, okay? It’s what he was meant to do! 

“Is it really that much?” he asks. 

Aina groans. “Yes, Galo. Really.” 

“Huh,” he says. “I had no idea. I just get so fired up about Burning Rescue! Gotta extinguish every fire with my burning soul! You know how it is! That’s the Galo Thymos way!” By the end of his declaration, he’s shouting and has widened his stance. 

Aina gives a half-chuckle at his proud theatrics. “Yeah, we know. Your enthusiasm is not forgotten. Don’t think we could if we tried.” 

“Yep!” 

She closes her locker and turns to him. “By the way, Lucia is in the lab. Wants to show you something once you get dressed.”

Oh? Does that mean what he thinks it does? Excitement starts buzzing in his chest. “Thanks for telling me, Aina! I’ll be right there!” 

She smiles at his earnest response and heads towards the main common area. 

After changing faster than maybe he’s ever done so in his life, (because yes yes yes YES he’s been waiting for this!) Galo scampers down the stairs leading to Lucia’s basement lab and testing facility. The Burning Rescue resident mad scientist is there waiting for him, blonde and pink pigtails bouncing as she spins in her revolving chair while sucking on a lollipop. When Galo appears, she holds out one for him to take. 

“Flavor?”

“Blue raspberry.” 

“Nice.” Galo takes the offering and pops the sucker in as Lucia gives him a big toothy grin. “Now Aina said you had something to show me?” 

“Oh, I do,” Lucia replies, the biggest smirk on her face.

“Does that mean it’s ready?” Galo asks, nearly vibrating hard enough to shake the whole room. 

“Hm,” Lucia considers, a finger on her cheek. “I don’t know. Why don’t we see, shall we?”

“Yes yes yes!!!!” 

She lets out a good-natured laugh. “Alright, rookie, follow me. Vinny, you’re in charge while I’m gone!” 

The rat sitting by her keyboard seems to almost acknowledge the order. “Vinny!” he squeaks. 

Galo follows the short engineer back to the far corner of the garage/lab that houses all of their tech. As she walks through the hallway containing their various firefighting mechs, she finally comes upon one shrouded in a canvas. 

“Aaaand we’re here!” she announces, spinning around on her feet and pointing at the form. “I took your basic idea and changed a few things up. I think you’ll approve.” 

“So it’s really…?” Galo utters, nearly breathless. 

“Yep.” Lucia bumps her elbow against the sheet and an echoing clang is heard in response. “This is the finished Matoi Tech!” 

“Can I see? Please please PLEASE????” 

“Course.” Lucia cheeses proudly. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya.” 

“I would never!” Galo tells her sincerely. “You’re the best, Luci!” 

And with that emphatic response, Lucia grabs the sheet and yanks. 

The curtain comes fluttering down. Underneath is indeed the firefighting machine of his dreams. 

“Wow…” 

It’s somehow even better than he imagined. The steamers are a nice decorative touch. It’s **beautiful.**

“All set and ready to go,” Lucia announces. “I’ve gotta put it back in the normal form before Captain sees, but yep, it’s ready to go tonight.” 

“Yessssssss! Lucia you are the best!!!!” Galo wraps her up in a bone-crushing hug that envelops her entire form. “I can’t wait to use it! Not that I’d want to, because I don’t want fires to happen and all, but still-”

“I get it,” Lucia replies into his chest. “Now can I breathe?” 

“Sorry!” 

He releases her and lets her stand on the ground once more. “This is just so fuckin’ amazing I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you, dude.” 

“Nah,” she shrugs. “What are friends for, right?”

“Still! It’s a real MATOI!” 

“Easy there. Let’s head back before I need to pull out a wet floor sign,” she quips as they begin to make their way back to her computer setup. 

“Why would you need that?” Galo asks her, confused. “Did I spill my water bottle?” He pulls out the FDPP bottle from his pocket, but it is sealed tight. 

“Oh you sweet summer child.”

“I mean, my birthday _is_ in August, so I guess?”

Lucia just rolls her eyes and retakes her post at her keyboard. 

“But seriously, Lucia, thanks,” he tells her sincerely before he leaves the room. “I won’t forget this.”

“You’re welcome, Galo.”

Galo heads up the stairs to find Aina sprawled out on a couch, Varys and Remi in the middle of an intense battle in what appears to be some basketball video game, and Ignis on the phone in his office.

“Hey guys!”

“Oh there you are, Galo,” Remi replies. “Was wondering when you’d show up.” He glares at the TV screen behind his glasses. “That was not a foul!” 

“You were totally in my space,” Varys tells their lieutenant. He turns around and flashes a big smile at Galo. “Nice to see you, Galo!”

“Who’s winning?” Galo asks as he sits down (carefully avoiding sitting on Aina) to view the competition. Varys and Remi are sitting on the floor, controllers in hand as they jostle for supremacy. 

“Oh, by the way, thanks for the tip, Aina. Lucia did suuuch a good job,” Galo praises. 

“Doing what?” Remi asks. 

Shit, he can’t tell or else Remi will absolutely shut that down. “Uhhh… On fixing up my machine! I kinda busted it the other day while practicing some awesome new Matoi moves!” 

Remi pauses the game. 

“Hey!” Varys complains. “I was just about to hit that 3-pointer! Now it’s gonna be all messed up!”

“Please,” Remi scoffs. “You wouldn’t have made it anyway.” He turns around to eye up Galo. “What did Lucia do, rookie? Tell me.” 

“Well!” Galo very conspicuously fiddles with the strap of his compression sleeve. “Nothing that would be like… unapproved! Or anything! Nope! I mean-”

“She modded it, didn’t she?” Remi deadpans. 

“Well, I-”

_“Galo.”_

He hangs his head. “Yes,” he finally admits, ashamed at being so immediately called out.

“Well that didn’t take long,” Aina comments. 

Remi gives one of his famous long sighs. “Whatever it was, please don’t hurt yourselves. That’s all I ask. The paperwork is not worth it.”

“Aye-aye!”

They resume the game, and Galo watches as Varys does indeed make the shot and thoroughly defeats Remi. 

A few more hours pass in relative ease for Burning Rescue. The team eats a meal prepared by Varys (he really is the best cook on the team), and then lounges around. That’s one of the things about firefighting - it’s a lot more waiting than you’d expect. It’s a good thing, because it means people aren’t in danger, but it’s also a bad thing, because Galo’s the type of guy that needs to be occupied at all times or else he gets real fidgety.

After dinner, Galo decides to quickly nap in their control truck as the night is settling in. If they need him, they’ll get him. 

Turns out, that’s only about an hour later when they get a flood of calls that a local construction site has caught fire and is in the process of burning very, very bright. Galo finds out this info when he is startled awake by a kick from Remi as the team all files into the truck. They speed away, sirens blaring, towards the fire. 

A construction site catching fire? So immediately? At night? Unless it was faulty electrician work (if they’d even gotten that far with the building process), then that probably means purposefully set.

Galo wants to believe that there isn’t some arsonist out there setting Promepolis ablaze, but currently, the outlook is not great. More and more data points piling up and it’s become hard to ignore the reality. Someone or something is purposefully setting fires in Promepolis, and Galo can’t let that slide.

Burning Rescue makes it to the scene in record time, and boy, the calls weren’t kidding. 

The entire half-built high-rise apartment building is engulfed in bright orange flames licking the struts and causing smoke to choke the night air. It’s one helluva inferno. 

Varys and Remi are dispatched first and use Lucia’s tech to extinguish as many of the flames as possible. Galo watches on the monitors, tapping his foot because he wants to help too, dammit! Put him in, c’mon!

Since it’s a construction site, thankfully no one is in immediate peril, but this fire is big and vicious and seems to be getting angrier by the minute. Varys and Remi are doing their best while Aina watches from the sky, but Galo can tell that more needs to be done. 

“C’mon Captain!” he pleads. “Someone needs to handle the east side before the wind blows it next door!” So far, it’s just the one building on fire, but another could easily catch with the sparks floating in the air. They need to get that under control and fast. 

“Good point,” Ignis decides. “Launch!” 

“Nice!” Galo cheers, before striking his pose to the forming crowd watching the blaze. “Don’t worry, Galo Thymos is here to put it all out!” 

He gets loaded into the machine and is promptly launched before he can even finish his grandiose entrance. It’s Lucia’s fault, of course. Doesn’t she know how important that all is? You need to hype up the crowd! Let them know it’s gonna be okay! 

He’ll complain about that later, though, because now it’s time to do what he does best: fight fires!

The building isn’t that big, but he still lands pretty high up before pulling out the Matoi Tech in all its glory. Finally he gets to use it! Yes! The smaller, speedier mecha allows for him to reach more space and fire more icy shots, freezing the fire on contact. He’s nimble, moving the Matoi Tech around like a dream, like he’s been piloting it for years. 

“Lucia, you did so good!!! YEAH!” This whole experience is really getting him going! 

Over the comms, Galo can hear Ignis’s gruff voice ask her what it is, but only distantly. Galo’s far too focused on his battle at hand.

A battle that he pretty handily wins, considering his skills. In but a few minutes, the entire area around him is extinguished. From what he can tell, his teammates were also successful, and the building is mostly out.

“Nice work, Burning Rescue,” Ignis announces over the comms. Galo returns to the ground floor of the building, showing off his beautiful new Matoi Tech. Remi is thoroughly unamused, while Aina and Varys seem endeared. Ignis keeps his neutral expression like he always does.

A job well done, Galo steps proudly out of his Matoi Tech. Lucia starts measuring it, recording things on her tablet and muttering to herself about more experiments. Galo gives a big warm wave and pose to the dissipating, relieved crowd.

Then he hears a voice. 

_“Save me!”_

“EH?” Galo quickly turns around, gazing into the dark, smoldering building. “Did you guys hear that?” 

“Hear what?” Remi asks. 

_“_ _Save me! Help!”_

“Someone’s still in there! They need help!” 

Before anyone can stop him, Galo rushes back in on foot, desperate to find whoever needs his aid. Galo Thymos never stops until everyone is safe! He doesn’t even bother to use his Matoi - just runs in on foot through the debris and ash. No time to waste!

Sure, it’s stupid, idiotic, and definitely not the smartest or safest option, but Galo feels it in his burning soul that he needs to help this person. He has to! And he needs to do it quick! Who is he to ignore such a calling?

_“Save me, Galo!”_

They even know his name? Well then he _definitely_ needs to go save them! 

Galo makes his way through the soot and rubble, covering his eyes and mouth as best as he can as he searches for the trapped individual. 

“Hello?” he calls out. “Where are you?” It’s hard to see with the lingering smoke and night sky, so Galo reaches into his belt and pulls out his gun, flicking the flashlight attachment on. “I’m here to help! Where are you?” 

He’s in the back of the structure when his answer comes literally falling into his lap. 

Suddenly, there’s a rustling sound in the concrete above him and a very dirty, very disgruntled cat lands right in front of him. It’s white, fluffy, and Galo notices an odd decoration on its tail. 

“Hey, whoa!” he says as he watches the situation unfurl in front of him. 

The cat looks up at him with its face. Its eyes are shut, but it seems to still be looking at him, studying him. Of course, Galo’s a firefighter, so he saves everyone, and that includes animals. 

“I’ve gotcha,” he reassures the animal as he carefully picks it up in his arms. “That was a close one, kitty! But you’re lucky I found you! Galo Thymos is here to save you!” He puts on his proudest firefighter rescue smile at the cat.

_“Thank you.”_

“Well of course! I’m the World’s Number One Firefighter! I don't’-” He abruptly stops, jaw still agape, and lowers his gaze to the fluffy Persian. “Did you say that?” He has to be imagining things, right? Cats don’t just thank you for saving them. 

“Yes!” it says.

There is no mouth moving, no indication of vocalization at all. It’s almost as if the voice is in his mind. As if there’s no sound at all. 

“You’re correct!” it replies enthusiastically. “I can communicate with you telepathically, Galo Thymos!” 

Okay, did he inhale too much smoke and now he’s really losing it? Is that what’s going on here? There’s no fuckin’ way that he-

“Yes, there is!” 

“Uhhhh,” he says very intelligently. He’s still trying to comprehend how far his brain has broken when he hears the telltale sound of footsteps behind him. He whips his light around with the hand not holding the injured cat, and it lands upon a figure just as it jumps down from the floor above. 

They land gracefully in their high-heeled boots, cape and hair fluttering with the landing. Though it is dark and the fire is all but out, their eyes seem to glow like flames themselves, piercing and bright pink, staring right into him. The flashlight reflects off of a triangle-shaped earring and their shiny black outfit. They’re dressed so formally, almost like a costume or some anime character.

And Galo recognizes them immediately. 

_“Lio?”_

Lio Fotia stands before him in the same princely outfit from his dream. It has to be. He wouldn’t forget such a unique look. It’s the exact same, all the way down to the fluffy white decoration on the front of his jacket. Despite his short stature, Lio stands powerful and lofty atop some rubble, glaring at Galo.

“What are you doing here, Lio?” he finds himself asking. “This is still an emergency fire scene! It’s not safe for-”

“What’s not safe is that _thing_ you’re holding,” Lio cuts back, his deep voice fierce and bitter. “I’d recommend you drop it.” 

**“HUH?”**

Galo watches as Lio does a motion with his hand (which he notices are wearing half-gloves that are black and shiny) and stirs up some lingering cinders in the air. He twirls his arm once, the cinders swirl almost in a pattern, then he abruptly pulls his arm back. 

In his hands now are a bow and a trio of arrows, already notched and ready to fire. The weapon shines in the darkness, glowing teal and pink in the smoky night, and is aimed right at him. 

“Lio what?” Maybe Gueira was right. Maybe he is being threatened right now. Maybe he never should’ve gotten involved with this guy at all. “Where did you get that? How-?”

“Drop. It.” he seethes. 

“What?” Galo responds, still very fucking confused and a little (alright, _a lot)_ intimidated. “This cat? Are you mad?” 

“This has nothing to do with you, Galo,” Lio answers, narrowing his eyes. “This is my fight. Now head on home.”

“Bullshit!” Galo fires back. He stands taller and proudly lifts his chin. “This _does_ have to do with me! They called out for me to save them! Galo Thymos can never ignore someone in trouble! Even if it’s a magical talking cat!” 

Lio doesn’t respond this time, just looks at him with his weapon still poised and ready to fire. There is a slight, almost imperceptible tremble in his drawing hand. His eyes twinkle like the embers still surrounding them, glistening in the night. Despite his overwhelming presence, he flickers for just a moment before he regains the same laser-like focus from before.

They stare each other down, tension palpable in the air, before suddenly his vision is awash in white and he’s being yanked away. Galo barely has time to register what’s going before he sees flames creep into his vision, a person’s form nearby, and somehow white mist. 

**_“GUEIRA?!”_ **

What the hell is he doing here? He’s pulling Galo along through the building (which seems to be reigniting as they speak), and he’s holding a Burning Rescue gun, set to the mist setting. 

“I told you! If I saw his ass again, it was _on sight.”_ They sprint through the busted concrete and singed wood only to see the same darkness and smoke. “I fucking meant it.”

“Where the hell did you come from?” Galo asks. “Where’s the rest of Burning Rescue?” He sees the flames growing bigger and brighter. Shit! He really should’ve brought his Matoi. How is this place reigniting so fast? Burning Rescue had it under control! Is someone trying to set the fire as they speak?

“I was on shift across the street as the place went up,” Gueira explains. “Came to see you only to find out you ran back in unequipped and alone.”

“Well you’re not even trained! At least I’m the world’s-”

“Number One Firefighter. We know.” Gueira coughs as he covers his nose and mouth from the smoke, wiping his glasses in his shirt. “I followed you in because something was shouting for me. I think?” A sudden realization hits him. “Okay, now that I think about this that was really dumb of me.”

“Ya think? And you stole Burning Rescue gear!”

“Borrowed. And if I hadn’t that Lio guy would’ve killed you!”

“Still! You can’t run in alone and unequipped! That’s so unsafe!” 

“You have no leg to stand on in this fight!” 

“At least I’m trained!”

Their brief argument over, they pause in a hallway of scorched concrete to catch their breaths.

“And what was Lio wearing?” Gueira asks between pants. “Like is he trying to be a punk rock prince or what? And where did he get a fucking bow?”

“I don’t know!”

It’s at this point that Galo realizes he can’t see the sky anymore and that everything around him feels almost warped. It’s odd, and he definitely doesn't like it. It’s one smoldering apartment building, how far can the outside be? He feels like they’ve been running for ages.

Galo taps Gueira on the shoulder. “Hey, where are we?” 

Nothing looks familiar anymore. All Galo can see at this point are flames are licking around them. They glimmer many different colors, dancing and twirling and morphing into shapes. They almost seem to melt and contort into lampshades and are those spatulas or knives? Either way, Galo doesn’t like the look of it. 

“What the fuck is this?” Gueira asks quietly, actual fear creeping into his voice. Galo holds up his gun and fires at the encroaching flames. It works a bit, until the aforementioned lampshades grow mouths and eat the icy blasts. 

“Hey uh,” Gueira says as he backs up to Galo so that they’re back to back in this odd, unfamiliar place. “Did they cover this in training?”

“No,” Galo replies back, trying to keep his voice steady. “I don’t know what is going on, but I don’t like it.” He fires several shots in succession, at least halting the advances for now, but he doesn’t have much juice left. This won’t stop all of the flames that cover their odd surroundings. 

“Pardon me!” a high-pitched voice calls out.

Galo and Gueira turn towards the source of it just in time to see a brilliant yellow light. Suddenly, there’s a girl standing behind them, smiling and completely at ease with the totally-not-normal situation. Her fiery auburn hair flows around her like a mane, and she has big gold hoops in her ears and a blue headband tied in a bow on top of her head. She’s wearing a cropped black leather jacket and matching ruffled miniskirt with really, really tall boots.

“Sorry I’m late!” she says. She looks down to the cat still in Galo’s arms, her green eyes glittering like emeralds in the firelights. “Oh, and you saved Kraybey!”

“They called out to me? Us? I guess?” Galo offers the mysterious new arrival. 

The girl bows her head in gratitude. “Then I sincerely thank you. They’re very important to me.”

“Not to sound like an asshole,” Gueira butts in. “But who the fuck are you?” 

“Oh I’m sorry!” The girl’s eyes go wide. “I didn’t introduce myself. Give me a moment to wrap this up and I’ll explain it all.”

Suddenly, with a wave of both of her hands, twin golden pistols appear in each. 

“This’ll just be a moment!” She jumps, leaping over Galo and Gueira, landing in front of them. There’s a brilliant sun emblazoned on the back of her jacket. “Hang on!” 

In a flash, she is firing and jumping all around the space, shooting all of the weird creatures and objects that were encroaching around them. She seems to manifest the golden guns out of thin air, creating more and more as each is expended until the weird flames and colors fade out into the partially constructed building again. It’s dark and still scorched, but at least it’s familiar.

After the weird fire creatures are extinguished and the environment returns to normal, Galo sees another familiar face. In front of them, Lio Fotia stands just as mysterious and glowering at them, weapon drawn once more. 

“If you're fast,” the girl tells him. “You can still catch the daemon.”

“I don’t care about that,” Lio sharply replies back, still acidic in his words. 

The girl turns over her shoulder, gazing into a dark corner. “That goes for you, too!” 

A third person walks out from the shadows, donning a long flowing purple coat, black pants, and matching boots. Dark blue hair covers one eye while the rest is pulled up in some sort of decorative hairclip. Galo has literally no idea who this person is. 

“Meis?” Gueira utters, completely bewildered. 

Wait, _that’s_ Gueira’s ex??? What the hell is going on? Maybe he hit his head on the roof of the Matoi Tech or something.

Meis - if that is indeed him - doesn’t react to Gueira’s comment. He just looks between the two figures in unique dress, nods once, then says in a deep southern drawl, “I’ll get it.”

Then he steps away and jumps off into the night. 

Galo barely has time to understand that that was Gueira’s supposed ex and that he just jumped out a window on like the fourth floor of this building before the other two resume their conversion.

“With that settled,” the girl decides, turning back towards Lio. “Seems like your work here is done.”

“It’s not.”

She tilts her head. “I wasn’t asking.” She smiles with all of the passive aggression of a suburban mom. “You won’t get another chance.”

Lio grits his teeth, glancing between her and Galo. Eventually, the bow in his hands dissipates and he starts walking away. 

“That’s what I thought. No need to make more trouble, is there?” 

Lio does not respond. He takes one more look over his shoulder right at Galo, and then he leaves. 

The girl runs over to him and Gueira. “Sorry about all that! I’m Thyma Cado, and this here is Kraybey!” She reaches a hand out as a warm light engulfs it. She closes her eyes as she touches Kraybey, and Galo watches as miraculously, their wounds heal like magic.

“Thank you, Thyma!” they say. 

Thyma shakes her head. “No, no, thank these two! They’re the ones who found you and saved you!”

Kraybey turns their head to Gueira and Galo. “Thank you, Galo Thymos, Gueira Valente.”

Gueira’s jaw goes slack. “How do you know our names?” he demands. Which yeah, Galo’s kinda wondering the same thing.

“I sought you out!” Kraybey responds eagerly. “I have determind that you two have enough potential.”

“Potential?” Galo echoes. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Yes, you have enough potential,” Kraybey nods their head. “And because of that, I have a proposition for you both.”

“Alright,” Gueira allows. “What is it?”

“Make a contract with me, and become a Burnish!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meis and Thyma make their appearances!! Kraybey also shows up, but we care less about him.  
> Where will things go from here? What is going on? Will Galo find out soon? (spoiler: yes he will)
> 
> Next chapter will probably go up next week or so. I'm feeling motivated to get back into writing more of this and want to share it with you guys! I've got a backlog of 3 chapters so far. 
> 
> We've also made even more playlists for this AU!  
> Lio: [ design](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1264339475385090050) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5VR2kBUeDcKUV8xbkL2UGZ?si=uKUjQHa_RrOykBTKUZ6XDw)  
> Galo: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465576312369152)  
> Gueira: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465651881062400) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6doiKEiNKOID9NLayErpKC?si=HbCakW2XTLKWOPtORYp0uw)  
> Meis: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465759079120898) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1JHJ0Q1ItSkbm01YThTMtI?si=RHolpgxLRma0h9ZmtkiORg)  
> Thyma: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465852272373760) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/32v0MxGX2hB5pYRNkYUIy8?si=AvZkfR4KRpGMTeB57SO0ZA)  
> Kraybey: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465957163495424)
> 
> Hit me up here or on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/ashesfadein2gay) or my [ curiouscat! ](https://curiouscat.me/jabbles)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! Please leave kudos and comments and all that love they sustain me as a fic writer💖  
> See you soon!


	4. Intelligimus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, you’re not crazy," Thyma reassures him. "Becoming Burnish is an unbelievable opportunity. Kraybey here has chosen you two, and that is a chance few people have in this world.” 
> 
> “What do you mean ‘chosen’?” Galo asks. “And Kraybey mentioned something about a contract?” 
> 
> “Indeed!” they chirp in. “I will grant you one wish - any wish you could ever desire!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!!!
> 
> Whaaat? Jabbles updating only a week later?? Yes!  
> I've been super into this story lately and wanted to update for you!!! :)
> 
> _Intelligimus:_ we understand, we realize.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has supported this so far!! Y'all are the best.  
> And as always, a massive shout out to [ purbs!!!](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs)  
> We finally get the loredump! I hope it's not too confusing or boring. Enjoy!
> 
> -Jabbles💕

“ _‘Become Burnish?’_ ” Galo repeats back to the cat.

The word feels foreign on his tongue. Whatever could that mean? What could any of this mean?

Shit, wait! What is the captain gonna think about all this? He just ran in without any gear! And a civilian followed him! Oh, he is _so screwed._

Galo quickly starts retreating away from the scene. 

“Uh, guys, we should go. I mean, this is still a firefighting scene,” he explains, gesturing to the smoldering embers visible around them. “Plus, I’m kinda still on the clock so…”

“Oh,” Thyma says. “You’re a firefighter?” 

“Damn right!” Galo declares proudly. “And right now, my job is to help get you all to safety!” Galo grabs Gueira’s arm and starts pulling him in the direction of an exit. At least he thinks it’s the direction of an exit. Being dragged into whatever weird place that was really disoriented him. 

“Wait just a sec,” Gueira pulls back, dragging his feet through the soot and dust. “You’re just gonna leave? And not ask what the fuck this all is? Why a fucking _cat_ is talking to us? Or why my ex somehow showed up here dressed like some sort of Vegas act??? Nope, this is all normal, peachy! Let’s just get on with our fuckin’ lives!” 

Galo pauses at that.

Now that he thinks about it, Gueira is making some good points, actually. Is he really supposed to take all of this at face value? Not question anything? Shouldn’t he be skeptical of all this? Most of it certainly doesn’t seem possible.

Really, he should be a lot more concerned about all this. Who is Thyma? Should he trust her? And what was Gueira’s ex doing here? What was that creepy place they were just in? What’s a Burnish?

What’s the deal with Lio?

There is a lot here he doesn’t get. A whole fuckin’ lot.

But at the same time, he’s still technically working, right? And if there’s another fire, he needs to be ready. Isn’t that what he’s been training for all this time? Galo’s a firefighter no matter what. Even if suddenly there is magic, talking animals, and weird vague threats from a guy cosplaying as a punk rock prince, that hasn’t changed. 

Everything about this situation is very strange. 

But firefighting? That makes sense to him. Always has.

“Sorry, Gueira,” he decides, regrabbing his arm. “But I owe it as my duty as the World’s Greatest Firefighter. I need to get back to Burning Rescue. Can’t slack on the job.” 

He starts to pull his friend along away from the magical beings. There are things he still needs to figure out, that’s for damn sure, but he needs to focus on this job first. Maybe after some settling time, this’ll start to make some sense.

(Yeah, probably not) 

“Wait!” Thyma suddenly calls out as she races to catch up. “Kraybey chose you, did they not?” 

“I did!” their voice chimes in all their heads. That’s still very unsettling.

“So don’t you want to know? About all this?” 

“I do! PLEASE!” Gueira agrees wholeheartedly. “I want some goddamn answers!”

Galo does too, even he can admit that, but he’s got other important things to do right now. 

“Thyma, can we talk later? I’m still on my shift right now.” 

“Hey! Don’t make this choice for me!” Gueira complains.

“Oh, uh, alright?” She seems a little unsure but still willing to work with him on this. “When?”

“I’m on until tomorrow evening, and then I’ll need to sleep so, uh, Thursday?” 

“If that’s alright with you?” Thyma turns to the very annoyed Gueira, who huffs some bangs out of his eyes.

“Fine,” he relents. “I don’t wanna make ya give the spiel twice. S’only fair.”

Thyma nods in agreement. “Sounds good. Thursday? I promise I’ll explain all of this. It’s very important that you understand what you are now involved in.”

“Whether we like it or not…” Gueira mutters under his breath.

Galo hears it – he’s probably the only one that does – and he shoots his friend a side-eye glance. Gueira shrugs in response when he realizes he’s been caught.

“Where are we meeting?” Galo asks. Obviously, it’s gotta be somewhere private since like, magic discussions can’t exactly happen at a Starbuck’s.

“We can meet at my apartment,” Thyma replies easily. “In the morning. It’s safe, I promise.”

“What’s the address?” Gueira starts to take his phone out to record it, but Kraybey’s voice in their minds stops that.

“No need for that. I can find you! No problem!” they announce. 

“You just know where we are? At all times?” Gueira fires back, a little indignant as he shoves his phone back in his pocket. “Isn’t that like, an invasion of privacy or some shit?” 

Kraybey tilts their head. “No. How do you think I found you in the first place? I can track your potential. It is important that I be able to do so.” 

Gueira grumbles, crossing his arms. “Still ain’t happy about it.” 

“Are we in agreement then? Thursday at my place?” 

“And how am I supposed to get there?” Gueira asks, clearly getting annoyed with this conversation. He lowers his eyes to Kraybey. “You got Google Maps in there, buddy?” 

“I can direct you.” 

“Of course you can.” Gueira throws his hands up in defeat. “And I bet you can-“

“Sounds great, Thyma! Thank you for the help!” Galo jumps in, mediating the situation. “But let’s hurry, ‘cause I gotta go.” 

Thyma nods understandingly. “Go. Kraybey and I will see you soon.” 

“Thank you!” Galo takes that as his cue and heads back towards the red and blue lights shining through the cracks in the charred walls. 

When he returns to Ignis, Gueira in tow, Galo gets chewed out pretty good for running in with no backup. Despite it all, he takes the scolding in stride because even he knows better, and he did save someone. He can’t exactly tell his boss that that someone was a magical talking cat, but he did save them.

Even beyond that though, he heard someone in trouble, and he can’t ignore that. He’s never been able to.

That’s just how Galo Thymos is. He sees a fire, he puts it out. He sees someone in trouble, he saves them.

Rinse and repeat. 

The team works on the cleanup late into the night. Despite extensive searching, they find no signs of what started the fire. Odd.

Galo only half pays attention to the discussion and clean up efforts, because he’s got so many other things going on in his head. Burnish, potential, talking cats, Lio Fotia...

What does it all mean?

Part of him still thinks it was all some smoke-induced hallucination, or that he hit his head on the concrete and will wake up back on a cot in Burning Rescue. Perhaps it was all some figment of his wild imagination that he’ll forget as he does his firefighting duties. 

He might be inclined to just write it all off.

Except.

Except for the constant barrage of texts he gets from Gueira that confirms what he saw.

It was real.

By the time Burning Rescue makes it back to the firehouse, they’re all exhausted from a hard night’s work. Galo’s on shift for another eight hours or so, so he knows he can’t collapse just yet even if he wants to. 

Instead, he takes a shower to rinse off the soot and dust off his head and chest (yeah he doesn’t wear a shirt at fires, sue him. They always burn off anyway!) and to try and make some headway about what his life has become. 

Kraybey.

Burnish. 

Daemons. 

Lio Fotia. 

What does it all mean? What ‘potential’ does he have?

Well, he is an amazing firefighter. But wouldn’t that mean his potential is already found and being utilized? It’s all so confusing. He really just needs Thyma to sit down and explain it all. And to reassure him that he’s not losing his mind. 

Galo ends up staying in the shower for a while trying and failing to put it all together. He’s also trying to remember that dream he had, thinking maybe those details will help. He ends up not being able to recall most of it, and the parts he can recall just confuse him further.

Eventually, he leaves the showers and starts getting dressed in the locker room. As he does, Remi comes strolling in, probably also to clean himself off after a job well done. As he passes by, Galo tries reaching out. 

“Hey Remi?” he starts. 

Remi pauses and turns to see Galo sitting on the locker room bench. “Yes, what is it?” 

That’s a heavy question. He starts small. “Have you ever heard the word ‘Burnish’?”

Remi tilts his head at the question. “‘Burnish’? Like something is partially burned? Can’t say I have. Is this part of your new vernacular?” 

“Uh, I guess?” Galo gives a half-assed grin and rubs the back of his head. “Was just wondering if it’d catch on.” 

“Hmpf,” Remi huffs. “Maybe it will.” He starts walking towards the showers. “You and your phrases, rookie, I swear." 

“Ha, yeah…”

“But also,” Remi looks at him over his shoulder. “Still, good work out there today.”

Galo glows at the praise. “Thank you!” 

“Now go clean the truck.”

“Yessir!” 

Galo finishes his duties up and they are called out for a minor traffic accident, but other than that, it remains quiet. Finally, finally, after far too long, Galo finishes his shift. As he hops on his motorcycle to finally head home, something out of the corner of his eye catches his attention. 

Standing on a nearby rooftop, quietly, patiently observing, is a figure.

Galo knows who it is.

Lio Fotia acknowledges his presence, nodding once.

They make eye contact, and then Lio disappears. 

Weird.

Galo’s starting to trust this guy less and less. 

He makes it home, waves a quick hello to his mom, and collapses into bed. 

* * *

Meis is deep in a labyrinth, doing battle with one feisty daemon. This one doesn’t wanna go down with a fight. It keeps dodging and dancing around his whip strikes and just generally seems like it does not want to cooperate. 

“My my,” Meis muses under his breath as a massive tendril of flame smashes nearby, barely missing him. “You’re certainly angry, aren’t ya?” To a novice, this would be a dangerous foe, but to him, it’s nothing. 

It’s routine. 

It has been for years.

Meis dodges another attack coming his way and retaliates with a piercing crack of his weapon.

The daemon rears back with a discordant cry as the attack lands. When it does, Meis’s whip snags onto the horns of the beast, pulling him up with it. Using another swirl of his blue fire magic, Meis leaves a copy of himself standing in his place. He rises high, high above the daemon, nearing the ceiling of the labyrinth.

When the daemon sees his duplicate standing there, it takes the bait, angrily chomping down with rows and rows of teeth. It bites into the illusion and is utterly baffled when it comes up empty. 

“Gotcha!” Meis announces.

He lets gravity take over and comes crashing down onto the back of the daemon’s odd lampshade head. He flicks his whip once more, encircling the daemon’s neck, and cinches it tight. 

The daemon wails, an odd nails-on-chalkboard screech that rattles his ears. “Now, now,” he reasons. “Give up. There’s no reason to be like that!” 

He sends some of his magic swirling down the whip, burning hotter and pulling tighter. The daemon fights back, struggling in his hold and sending more angry spiky minions his way. It’s a futile struggle, and Meis flicks them away as if they are nothing. Finally, when he feels the daemon starting to give way, really starting to let go, he pulls with all his might. 

The daemon gives one more screeching yell, and then its lampshade-shaped head snaps. 

The fiery blue whip pulls all the way through its neck. The head slides off, crashing onto the burning floor below. 

Meis watches with pride as the labyrinth dissolves around him, leaving him standing in a park under the deep night sky. He grabs the Frost Core the daemon left behind, feeling its cold twinge settle into his fingertips.

Meis hears some rustling nearby, and he goes to investigate it. As expected, the two Burnish he saw earlier are standing before him. 

“And you are?” he asks, glancing between the two of them. He knows better to trust another Burnish right away, but introductions are civil enough. 

“Thyma Cado.”

“Lio Fotia.”

“Meis Denton,” he answers for himself. “And you missed the show.” Meis brandishes the Frost Core in his hand. “Daemon’s gone.” 

“So it would seem,” Lio replies. He walks forwards, confidently approaching but still keeping a distance. Between the three of them, they form an untrusting Burnish triangle in this late-night park. “I can’t say I’m too saddened by that fact.” 

“Oh, jealous you didn’t get the reward?” Meis prods him. 

“No,” he answers calmly. “I had other business.” 

“And what was that business exactly?” Thyma’s voice joins in. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen you two before. Promepolis has been my territory for a year now. Then one day two more Burnish show up?” She glares between the two, an untrusting look in her eyes. “What’s your deal?”

“Are you threatening us?” Meis asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t want it to come to that,” Thyma answers. “I just want to know what you are doing here in my territory.”

“Well, I used to have other hunting grounds,” Meis says. “But I heard that something big was comin’. Couldn’t stand idly by.” 

“Something big?” Thyma echoes. “You mean?” 

“Parnassus will come to Promepolis at the end of this month,” Lio states, rejoining the conversation. Meis glances at him in surprise. He didn’t know anyone else had come across this information. 

Thyma blanches at the reveal, paling in the moonlight. “Parnassus? That’s horrible… Are you sure? How do you know?” 

“I have been tracking its whereabouts for a long while now,” Lio answers. “It will come at the end of the month, without fail.” 

“Yep,” Meis agrees, popping the ‘p’. 

“And you two intend to fight it?” she asks them, disbelief and a drop of fear in her voice. 

“I intend to defeat it,” Lio declares, his eyes narrowing. “Whether you help is up to you, but know that I will defeat it.” 

“Well, that’s the first I’m hearin’ of that, Lio,” Meis looks over to the other Burnish. “You know you can’t win alone. Isn’t making allies your best bet?” 

“I’ll do whatever is necessary,” he replies tersely. “But you make a good point, Meis. More hands are appreciated. Can I count on you to help when the time comes?” 

Can he? Meis came here with that same intention: to have backup when Parnassus arrives. He’s a powerful Burnish – he knows he is – but Parnassus is a whole other beast. Aligning himself other Burnish isn’t something he does often; it’s too risky. And this Lio Fotia certainly has a mysterious, confrontational aura about him.

Yet, at the same time, he seems dead-set on defeating Parnassus, and that sounds like a valuable asset to him.

“Very well,” Meis decides. “I will help.”

Lio nods in understanding.

“On one condition.”

“Name it.”

The one person he never wanted to get involved in any of this now is in the thick of it. But Meis refuses to let him fall into the same honeyed trap of wishes and magic. He won’t allow it.

“You leave Gueira Valente out of this.” 

Lio tilts his head in response, almost expecting the terms. “Only if you leave Galo Thymos out of this.” 

“Agreed.”

“Hey, hey hang on!” Thyma cuts in. “What do you two have against more hands to help defeat Parnassus? What do those two have to with anything?”

“I don’t want him involved,” Meis replies. “Simple as that.”

“I have no intention of allowing Galo Thymos to make a contract,” Lio tells her, fire in his gaze. _“I will not let him.”_

“Ohhh,” she rubs her chin. “I see. You’re jealous. You see it too, then? The massive potential he has? ‘Fraid he’ll steal your thunder?” 

Lio grits his teeth. _“I will not let him,”_ he repeats. 

“And you,” Thyma turns to Meis. “The same?”

Meis sighs. “I just don’t want him gettin’ into this, alright?”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“On the contrary.” Thyma crosses her arms. “I think it does. Kraybey chose them and you two seem so against them making contracts.” She glares at Lio. “You even tried to kill Kraybey!”

“I should’ve,” Lio cuts back. 

Thyma looks almost horrified by that answer. “See? No.” She backs up, shaking her head. “I don’t like this; I don’t trust this. You don’t get to decide what they choose to do! They were chosen by Kraybey. They deserve to make the decision themselves.” Thyma stamps her boot, glaring between the two other Burnish. “Stay away from them and Kraybey.” 

She abruptly turns and disappears into the night, Kraybey in tow. 

Meis and Lio share a look after her departure. “I mean it,” Lio says. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Galo Thymos will not make a contract.” There’s a twinge in his voice that Meis understands all too well. They’ve both seen what being Burnish can do to someone. 

“I don’t doubt it,” Meis replies. 

“You handle your situation, and I’ll handle mine,” Lio tells him. “If we cross paths, we cross paths. Otherwise, I’ll see you at the end of the month.” 

Meis shrugs. “Fine by me.” 

Lio starts walking away from him. “Oh, and Meis?” he calls out over his shoulder. “Keep an eye on Gueira, would you? Don’t want him falling into trouble.” 

Meis mulls over the possible advice or possible thinly veiled threat for a moment before deciding he’ll take it as a tentative olive branch.

“Will do. Look out for Galo.” 

Lio stops in his tracks. There’s a pause, a brief tense moment before Lio takes a deep, steadying breath.

“I always do.” 

* * *

_“Make a contract with me, and become a Burnish!”_

Galo wakes with a start. Damn, what is up with these weird dreams lately?

He feels uncomfortably warm but not quite as sorrowful as before. Yesterday, he felt oddly melancholy, a slow tug on his heart that reverberated through his chest with every beat. It felt important, a thoroughly unshakeable feeling. 

Today, he feels mostly confused, reeling from a wild dream of fires and magical talking cats and pretty boys aiming weapons at him wearing biker outfits. Man, what is his brain on lately? 

Galo scrubs a hand down his face in some vain attempt at righting himself. He’s not on shift, which means he’s probably slept in. At the very least, his alarm didn’t go off and he doesn’t hear his mom right now, so he guesses it’s pretty late in the morning.

As comfortable and soothing this bed is to his sore muscles, he’s gotta get up and run some errands today. And he can’t skip a workout either! Galo forces himself out of bed, padding to his door and opening it. 

“Good morning Galo!” a friendly catface tells him. 

Galo abruptly shuts the door. 

He’s still half-asleep right? Right?????

Gingerly, he pulls the door open inch by inch, testing what may be on the other side. Sure enough, the cat sits there proud and calm, a neutral expression on its face. 

“Hel…lo?” he tries. 

The cat nods. “Hello. Now, we must get moving. Thyma is waiting!” 

“Who’s Thyma?” Galo mumbles as he steps into the kitchen. This whole thing is fucking with his head, and he could really use some goddamn coffee right about now.

Wait, that name rings a bell somewhere deep in his brain. 

“Thy...ma…” he echoes. 

Wait.

Thyma.

Talking magical cat. 

Burnish.

Galo fumbles the coffee mug in his hand, nearly shattering it on the counter.

Matoi is woken up from her 24-hour a day sleep schedule by the ruckus. She pads around the kitchen table before taking a few sniffs of the air. Her snout turns in the direction of the talking cat _(Kraybey,_ his mind supplies him) and suddenly, she starts barking. 

“Matoi!” Galo barks back at her. She seems very upset about this new intruder, and really, he can’t fault her for that. She takes the command and backs off, but still glares in the direction of the mystical figure sitting on Galo’s hardwood floor. She’s distrustful. 

“Interesting,” they say. “Humans cannot perceive me, but it seems this animal senses my presence.” 

“Humans can’t see you?” Galo asks. “Because like, I totally can. You are right fucking there.” He pauses, unpacking his statement and the current state of his unexpected morning. “Also, wait, how are you in my house? Wait. Why are you here? **_HUH?”_**

Kraybey lifts a paw. “The window. And I came to fetch you so that Thyma may explain what being Burnish entails. Of course, I could also explain it to you and we could make the contract right now if you’d like. That offer is always on the table.” 

“Contract? Like I gotta sign it?” How does a cat make a contract? And how does a cat telepathically talk? There are a lot of questions Galo has right now. He might as well get them answered. 

“Correct!” Kraybey responds positively. “Thyma will help! Let us go!” 

Well, he doesn’t have any better ideas. 

“Alright,” Galo agrees. “Where to?” 

Twenty minutes later, Galo finds himself in front of a modest apartment complex. He stands out front unsure what he is supposed to do, if he should even do anything. He met this “Thyma” for a grand total of maybe five minutes and now he’s supposed to just go to her place? And get all this figured out?

Well he definitely wants that second thing. He just blindly followed a telepathic talking cat through the streets of Promepolis. He’d like some answers about that. Otherwise, he might’ve just followed a hallucination right into some sort of trap. 

It seems Kraybey was right: they can’t be seen by other humans. No one batted an eye at the cat strolling around and pointing in directions, hopping up on fenceposts and trashcans. It’s like they weren’t even there. 

Galo’s still pondering what exactly his life has come to when a familiar voice calls out his name. 

“Dude!” Gueira says as he runs up to where Galo is firmly planted on the sidewalk. “I’ve been calling you all day!” 

Oh, his phone. It’s in his pocket, but he hadn’t thought to check it. “Uh, sorry?” Galo tries to apologize. 

“Welcome, Gueira Valente,” Kraybey says. “Now that we are all here, let us go see Thyma.” 

_“I’ll be right down!”_ Thyma’s chipper voice echoes through their heads. 

“How did I hear that?” Galo asks, bewildered. 

“I extended my telepathic field to encompass all three of you! You have no need for vocalizations anymore.”

_“What the fuck dude!”_ Gueira thinks very loudly. _“I don’t want Galo knowing my shit!”_

“I think we’re going to keep talking…” Galo says aloud. “That seems… easiest.”

As Galo and Gueira are still trying to grapple with the idea of having two different forms of communication now available to them, Thyma opens the door to her building. She has that same blue headband on, but her outfit is far less extravagant than the one from the other night. Instead, she’s wearing a simple off-shoulder t-shirt with a tank top underneath and some jeans. 

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Thyma greets. “Don’t be shy, come on in!” Her personality is so bright, so warm, like the sunrise.

Galo knows you’re not exactly supposed to just go into a random stranger’s apartment but:

1) Gueira is here with him should anything go down.

2) Normal logic is out the fucking window at this point. 

Thyma’s place is modest for a single 20-something that appears to be on her own. There’s a small sitting area with a large triangular table, a kitchen, and a bedroom off to the side. 

“Please,” she smiles warmly once again. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll have refreshments out in a minute.”

_“Who says ‘refreshments’ anymore?”_ Gueira’s voice comes through his mind. 

_“I heard that,”_ Thyma answers back, though she is off in the kitchen. 

“I think I’m finding I don’t like this mindreading shit,” Gueira grumbles aloud to himself, crossing his arms. 

_"Come in, do you read me? Can you hear this? Come in!"_ Galo teases him through their connection. 

Gueira rolls his eyes, but nevertheless plays along. _"Name's Gueira, by the way. And this is?"_

_"Galo Thymos! Isn't telepathy cool?"_

_"Sure. I guess."_

They sit around the glass table on cushions, and Galo takes a glass of lemonade that is offered to him. It’s very good. He sips it, twirling the ice so it clinks the glass to break the awkward silence. 

Thyma brings out some snacks in some bowls - mostly pastries that look quite delectable - and Galo and Gueira waste no time digging in. Free food in front of them? Gone in seconds. That’s just how they are. 

Thyma finally joins them, sitting down herself and looking over the two of them. 

“Well,” Thyma says. “I guess I should begin.” 

“Please,” Gueira replies with a mouthful of bearclaw. “I need to know I haven’t lost my mind.”

“Same,” Galo adds. 

Thyma chuckles to herself at that response. She shakes her head. “No, you’re not crazy," Thyma reassures him. "Becoming Burnish is an unbelievable opportunity. Kraybey here has chosen you two, and that is a chance few people have in this world.” 

“What do you mean ‘chosen’?” Galo asks. “And Kraybey mentioned something about a contract?” 

“Indeed!” they chirp in. “I will grant you one wish - any wish you could ever desire!” 

_**“HA?????”** _

**_“WHAT???????”_ **

Both of them nearly spit out their lemonade. 

“I can grant even the most incredible of miracles! If you think it, I can do it! Any wish you desire!” 

“Whoaaaaa,” Gueira utters in awe. “So you could make the Dolphins win the Super Bowl this year? Or make it so they win every year?” He’s getting starry-eyed. “Or finally make rent payments stop having to happen? Wait. _Oh my god._ No more student loans!” 

Thyma smiles. “You could certainly stand to think bigger, Gueira. But.” Her face turns solemn. “You should think long and hard about what your wish should be.” 

“Those that I grant a wish for become Burnish and are duty bound to fight daemons,” Kraybey explains. “When the contract is made, a Soul Flare is born, and so long as it burns are you bound to fight daemons.” 

Thyma does a quick wave of her hand and suddenly, a black, pyramid-shaped object is sitting in it. It appears gemlike, like onyx or obsidian, with accents of bright yellow shining through. 

“This is a Soul Flare,” she explains. “This is the source of our power and the proof that we are Burnish.”

Galo, unable to sate his curiosity, reaches for the object. It shines and glitters, but also has an evident power to it. As his hand nears the Soul Flare, he feels the air heating up. 

“It’s warm,” he notices. 

Thyma nods. “Our Soul Flares are full of the flames that grant us our magic. The more magic within your Soul Flare, the hotter it will be.” 

“So there’s… fire in there?” He frowns. “As a firefighter, I don’t know if I like this idea anymore.”

“There is indeed fire in each Burnish’s Soul Flare,” Thyma admits. “But we use that fire to battle daemons, who cause far more destruction.” 

“You keep saying that word,” Gueira points out. “‘Daemons.’ Like, from Hell? Are you a holy warrior? What do you fuckin’ mean?”

Galo finds himself similarly curious. “Are they Burnish too?” he asks.

Kraybey hops up onto their table, eyeing the group. “If Burnish are the flames of hope, then daemons are the flames of despair. They are cursed beings that spread hate and destruction. Anxiety, mistrust, grief, misery; they plant their evil feelings into the hearts of unknowing humans. Humans cannot see or comprehend them, so they are truly evil invisible beings wreaking havoc on Earth.” 

Thyma solemnly nods. “It is true. They are wretched beings that hurt far too many people. Many unknown fires, suicides, and murders are caused by them.” 

“Fires?” Galo can’t help but exclaim. 

“Indeed. They themselves burn and destroy what is around them - or at least the stronger ones do.” 

“Is that why we’ve been getting so many calls lately?” Galo continues. “Because daemons are setting fires in Promepolis?”

“There have been many instances of that, yes,” Kraybey tells him. “You saw one just the other day.” 

“That fire…” he realizes. “It wasn’t an electrical malfunction - it was a daemon!” And here he was thinking it was some serial arsonist!

“Well, how come normal people can't get ‘em?” Gueira asks. “Why does it gotta be these Burnish?” 

“Daemons hide themselves deep, deep in labyrinths of their own creation,” Kraybey explains. “It’s a never-ending maze that most humans do not survive. The daemon lays within the deepest part of the labyrinth.” 

“What you experienced the other day was indeed a daemon’s labyrinth,” Thyma tells them. 

“Oh, so that’s why it looked all weird,” Gueira realizes. 

“And you fight these, Thyma?” Galo inquires. “By yourself?” 

Thyma’s head dips slightly, her face taking on a dimmer scowl. “Yes, at the risk of my own life.” She gives Galo and Gueira both hard, determined stares. “That is why you must think long and hard about what could be worth wishing for. Because you may not survive.”

The heavy words linger in the air, sinking down into Galo’s gut. 

“You have the ability to create a miracle, to do something else no one can do,” Thyma continues. “But that miracle lies alongside death.” 

There's a long, long silence after that. 

Galo’s no stranger to putting his life on the line to save people - he’s a firefighter! The best at it! So why is this any different? 

_“You’re you, Galo. And you should stay that way.”_

“Lio Fotia. He’s a Burnish too, isn’t he?” Galo finally understands.

“There is no doubt,” Thyma agrees. “He is. A powerful one, too.” 

“And Meis,” Gueira realizes. “Holy shit, Meis is too! What!?” 

“Yes, he is.” 

“What were they doing there the other day?” 

“Meis was hunting the daemon. He seemed to be watching and waiting for the best moment to strike, so he fought the daemon later,” she replies.

“And Lio?” Galo asks. 

“Lio seemed very hellbent on keeping me from contacting new potential recruits,” Kraybey answers.

“Why not? Aren’t more hands a good thing?”

“Not necessarily,” Thyma tells them. “There are rewards for defeating daemons that often aren’t shared. It’s common for Burnish to contend for territory, even fight one another occasionally.” 

“So that's why he threatened you!” Gueira exclaims. “He’s selfish and knows that we got potential!”

Is it that simple? It could be, but with the way his eyes spoke deeper, Galo’s not sure. 

Lio Fotia. 

Who is he?

“It appears that way,” Thyma agrees. “I don’t entirely trust either of them with the state of how things are right now.” Her eyes narrow. “They are dangerous.”

“Yeah, I mean, who knows what Lio will do to stop us from makin’ wishes?” Gueira says. “And Meis ‘n’ I got our own shit, and this just-” He puts a hand to his forehead. “This just complicates it more.” 

“As I said, this is not a decision to take lightly. You should really think about it first.” 

“But if you do have a wish you would like to make, all you have to do is let me know!” Kraybey tells them, chipper and tail swishing.

Galo sighs. To have such an offer just on the table at all times? So tantalizingly close? Any wish granted at any time? What kind of power is that? 

“That was a lot, wasn’t it?” Thyma says kindly. “Why don’t we take a break and get some lunch? And if you want to after, I can show you how a real Burnish works in this world.” 

Well, he doesn’t exactly have any other plans today, so that seems fine. “Sure.” 

“I got nothin’ till the afternoon,” Gueira responds. “Let’s do it.” 

The trio rises from the glass table and heads towards a deli down the road. Along the way, Galo keeps pondering to himself what truly could be worth wishing for. 

He already risks his life to save fires, so how is this any different? 

But at the same time, it _is_ different. Could he theoretically have both jobs? Could he fulfill his duties as both a firefighter and a Burnish? 

Part of him suspects that doing so would make him the ultimate firefighter, the number one in the world (if he’s not already), but another part is apprehensive. Why should he be, though? It’s not like fear has ever stopped him from taking dangerous leaps before.

He’s Galo Freakin’ Thymos! And if he can’t handle being the world’s greatest firefighter AND Burnish, then what was all this for? Yeah! 

_“You should stay that way.”_

That’s the reason. 

That’s what’s holding him back, stopping him from taking the plunge right now.

Why should he listen to the words? He doesn’t have any reason to trust Lio. Every interaction Galo’s had with him has had a mysterious twinge to it. It’s not yet confrontational and not yet friendly. It's more... imperative. Lio speaks with conviction, with a tone that echoes importance, forethought. 

“...Galo?” Gueira’s voice calls for him. They’re sitting at a picnic bench in a nearby park, away from prying ears. “You’re spacin’ out again, bud. Thinkin’ ‘bout that twink?” he teases with a laugh. 

Galo hates that he’s right. He pouts and takes another big bite of his sub. “Shuddup.” 

Gueira’s jaw drops. “Wait, I was kidding. You really were?” 

“...No,” he lies.

“You _were!”_ Gueira balks. _“_ Galo, he tried to kill Kraybey! He fucking threatened you! Either you’ve got a helluva danger kink or you’re just too nice to believe someone doesn’t have your best interests at heart.” 

“It’s none of those!” he fires back. “I think... I don’t know!”

“I sure as hell don’t trust him,” Gueira announces as he crosses his arms. 

“I don’t either,” Thyma adds. “I’ve been controlling this territory for over a year, and he suddenly shows up unannounced? I don’t like it.” She shakes her head. 

“Lio Fotia is an interesting case,” Kraybey tells the group.

Gueira rubs his chin. “Oh yeah, you’d know about him, right? He must’ve made a contract with you.”

“Not necessarily,” they reply, contemplative. 

Thyma’s brows furrow at that response. “What do you mean? Don’t all Burnish go through you?”

“He is an unusual case. That is all.” 

“Well,” Gueira continues. “What about Meis?”

“Meis Denton, I do know. He used to own this territory years ago, but left it. It seems he has finally returned.” 

“' _Years ago?’_ ” Gueira mutters under his breath, clearly having a lot on his mind. 

“Anyway,” Galo transitions, trying to get them away from this topic. “Do you know what you want to wish for, Gueira?” 

He replies with a pitiful head shake. “Nope, not a fuckin’ clue. You?”

“Me neither.” 

“How quaint,” Kraybey muses. “Usually those I offer contracts to take them immediately.” They swish their tail around a bit. “And yet, you two are taking your time.” 

“It’s hard!” Gueira complains. “Like, do you know how many people would give up everything for this chance?” 

“Many,” they answer confidently.

“Yeah! That’s why it’s like, hard to decide. There are probably millions of people in the world who are dying, starving, wishing for a single chance like this to get anything they’ve ever wanted and yet here we are fuckin’ twiddling our thumbs and mooning over already established Burnish!” 

Galo almost calls him out on the mooning comment, opening his mouth to speak, but Gueira barrels on before he can get the words out. 

“And that’s the worst part! We could use this to do so much good, couldn’t we? Wishing to help people? Because even if my life ain’t great, I know there are people out there waaay worse off. There’s so much wrong in this fucked up world and we could fix some of that but we’re just cowards!” He chuckles dumbly as he looks up at the clouds rolling in the sky. “We must be total fools.” 

“Yeah…” Galo breathes. “Complete idiots.” 

Someone walks towards their bench, their footsteps echoing off the pavement. Galo looks over to find none other than Lio Fotia standing in front of them. 

_“You’re_ here?” Gueira loudly complains. “Fuck, we must’ve said his name too many times.” He stands up, inserting himself between Lio and Galo. “Here to start more shit, Burnish?” 

“No,” Lio answers calmly. “I came here to speak.” 

_“If he tries anything, I will protect you,”_ Thyma’s voice rings through their heads. Kraybey hops up into her arms, arching their back like a cat cornered and upset. Even they seem distrustful of the new arrival. 

“It seems you’ve already met Kraybey,” Lio says, looking at and acknowledging nothing but Galo. “An unfortunate failure on my part. I had hoped to kill them before you could make contact.” 

“Well ya didn’t!” Gueira fires back. “And if ya don’t mind, we got our own shit to deal with, so you can just fuck off.” 

Lio does not react to the outright challenge presented to him, or if he does, he is very, very subtle about it. 

“Have you decided what you will do?” he asks Galo. “What you will wish to give your life up for?” 

His expression is stern, his body language strong and curt. And yet, still, Galo senses there is more to him than this standoffish presence. 

It’s in his eyes - the windows to his soul. Every part of Lio Fotia stands resolute and precise, cold and calculated, but there’s a hint of something behind his rosy irises. Like behind those hardened crystals lies a pool of vibrant, scorching magma, fathomless and drawing him in. 

He doesn’t realize he’s been literally getting lost in Lio’s eyes until Gueira interrupts him. 

“No, and it’s none of your business.” 

“You remember what I told you, right?” Lio very pointedly directs at Galo.

All he can respond with is a gulp and a nod. 

“Good.” 

Lio turns to start walking away before Galo rockets up from his seat on the bench. 

“Wait, Lio!” he calls out. “What did you wish for when you became Burnish?” 

Lio abruptly stops in his tracks, his fingers clenching into fists. He tilts his head over his shoulder, the gentle summer wind tousling his fluffy green hair. 

His eyes bore into Galo. 

It’s the same look from Mario’s, but somehow several magnitudes heavier. His eyes seem to echo so many unspoken words, so much _depth,_ that it steals Galo’s breath from his lungs right then and there. Tendrils constrict around his chest, cinching tightly and steadily maintaining strength. Galo finds that he can’t move. That he doesn’t even begin to want to. It's almost magnetic, Lio's gaze. It pulls him in and holds him there. 

Lio’s many eyelashes frame his brilliant magenta irises as they gaze at him as if he is the only being on this entire planet, as if he’s peering directly into his burning firefighter’s soul and not shying away from the heat. Almost as if he’s willingly letting himself incinerate in the flames and enjoys the blistering agony.

_“I don’t regret it.”_

He turns around and takes his leave. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ends another chapter with a Lio Fotia One Liner™] _Nice_  
>  I just think it's really sexy of him to drop heavy one liners and then angstily walk away.  
> Also that specific scene in Madoka hits so hard once you know what's going on and I love it so much so I had to include it!!
> 
> Some more bg:  
> -Kraybey uses they/them pronouns. It always kinda annoyed me that Kyuubey, this mystical alien being that doesn't understand emotion, used gendered pronouns, so I changed that.  
> -Meis's magic affinity is illusion, while Thyma's is healing. I explain why that is the case later on! 
> 
> Next chapter should be up in two weeks. I've got family stuff next week so it'll probably need that extra time. Thank you for your patience!
> 
> Lio: [ design](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1264339475385090050) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5VR2kBUeDcKUV8xbkL2UGZ?si=uKUjQHa_RrOykBTKUZ6XDw)  
> Galo: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465576312369152)  
> Gueira: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465651881062400) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6doiKEiNKOID9NLayErpKC?si=HbCakW2XTLKWOPtORYp0uw)  
> Meis: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465759079120898) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1JHJ0Q1ItSkbm01YThTMtI?si=RHolpgxLRma0h9ZmtkiORg)  
> Thyma: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465852272373760) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/32v0MxGX2hB5pYRNkYUIy8?si=AvZkfR4KRpGMTeB57SO0ZA)  
> Kraybey: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465957163495424)
> 
> Hit me up here or on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/ashesfadein2gay) or my [ curiouscat! ](https://curiouscat.me/jabbles)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! Please leave kudos and comments and all that!! Every comment I get waters my crops and clears my skin!!!! 💖  
> See you all soon!


	5. Perdoceo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gueira wanders, vibing with his headphones in, until he spots something familiar.
> 
> Really? It can’t be. Not again.
> 
> A swish of navy hair strolls across the street.
> 
> Such coincidence, such serendipity to find him again. Except this time, Gueira’s not gonna chicken out. No, he’s got a lot to say today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends!
> 
> Thanks for waiting patiently for this next chapter! 
> 
> _Perdoceo:_ I instruct, I teach, I inform. 
> 
> My birthday was yesterday and I got SO MUCH INCREDIBLE ART FOR THIS STORY WAAAAHHH I LOVE YOU GUYS!!!!  
> Okay first off [ Anna ](https://twitter.com/mahariiyuware) made lovely art of the boys [ here! ](https://twitter.com/mahariiyuware/status/1290498641430376454) THEY'RE SO SOFT WAAHHH 😭  
> Next [ Adri ](https://twitter.com/xxgueiraxx) drew Lio [ here! ](https://twitter.com/xxgueiraxx/status/1290500014242844672) HE LOOKS SO GOOD I LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!!! 🥺  
> Lastly, my partner-in-crime [ Purbs ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs) surprised me with [ three cts galolio pieces!!! ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1290787325455134720) LOOK HOW CUTE THEY ARE!!!!!!
> 
> SEND THEM ALL YOUR SUPPORT & LOVE!!!!
> 
> Now let's get on with the story!
> 
> -Jabbles💕

Burnish? Wishes? Fighting evil daemons? Contracts with cats that talk but their mouth never moves?

Yeah, it’s a lot to unpack.

Questions are flying around his head, and Gueira can barely keep up with them. One moment he’s glowing at the prospect of finally gaining the strength he’s desired since he was a scrawny kid relegated to the sidelines. The next, he’s lamenting the risks and the fact that just wishing for himself is lame. He has endless possibilities and he’s hung up about _football?_ What does that say about him?

Then his mind falls back to the Burnish (that’s what he is) that abandoned him all those years ago. What else has he been hiding? Why come back now?

To anyone else, it seems like an easy choice.

Power, the ability to save people, AND you get a free wish? Awesome! Sign me the fuck up!

But it’s not that simple. 

Gueira can’t just take this offering of power, even if could finally give him what he’s wanted for years.

Because he has to yield something in return.

He’s heard stories of equivalent exchange; you can’t gain something without giving something up. Karmic balances, cosmic fates, all that astrological shit.

It all seems like lofty bullshit.

And yet, he still can’t seem to shake the idea from his mind.

His brain is moving like, seventy miles an hour. Maybe faster. He never thought such a magnificent world would be available to him. 

Gueira’s spent his whole life trying to get to where he wants to be. He was gunning for it, sprinting towards the finish line, only to trip over his feet and fall over due to his stupid goddamn condition. 

This would fix that. 

This would fix all that. 

Unlimited potential options to fix the shit his life has become.

And he still can’t bring himself to take it. 

Sure, magic and power are great and all, but to suddenly put his life on the line?

Is there something he truly desires that badly? 

It’s a hard sell. 

Gueira needs a better idea of what this all entails before making a decision. The last thing he wants to do is get emotional and impulsive and do something stupid he'll regret later. He can’t imagine magical cat beings accept “takesies backsies” if things don’t work out.

Thankfully, he does have a way to dip his feet in the water of a Burnish lifestyle. Thyma has promised to take both him and Galo daemon hunting in the evening. She claims they are much easier to find then, so after their explanation and confrontation with that mysterious emo twink, he heads back to his place. 

Gueira flops onto his bed and loudly groans. It’s only like 2 PM; he has time a little time to kill before practice and no idea what the fuck to do about it. What he really wants to do is maybe punch something. Or multiple things. And scream while doing it.

In the end, he decides to just walk around a bit more to get out this anxiety creeping into every part of him. Jittery, twitching fingers zip up his jacket, and a heart skipping just a tad too quick thumps in his chest. He implores it to try to calm down, because he definitely doesn’t want to pass out right now. That would suck monumentally. 

There are a few others for afternoon strolls through the streets of Promepolis. Gueira shoves two clenched hands in his pockets and walks towards nowhere in particular in an attempt to rid himself of this excess energy.

As he walks, it warms up. He’s kinda wishing he hadn’t worn his jacket, but he’s already committed at this point, so what the fuck else is he gonna do? Tie it around his waist? That style died years ago. Besides, he looks damn good in it, even if he is beginning to sweat uncomfortably. 

Gueira wanders, vibing with his headphones in, until he spots something familiar.

Really? It can’t be. Not again.

A swish of navy hair strolls across the street.

Such coincidence, such serendipity to find him again. Except this time, Gueira’s not gonna chicken out. No, he’s got a lot to say today.

**“OI!”** He stomps across the street, not sure if he’s ready to pick a fight or just demand some answers, but either way, pretty pissed off.

Meis hears him, because Gueira sees the line of his shoulders twitch. But he doesn’t turn around, doesn’t break stride. Completely doesn’t acknowledge him.

“Don’t ignore me!” he barks out, uncaring of any passersby that may overhear his outburst. He’s gonna talk to Meis whether he wants to or not. There is just too much he’s kept hidden and Gueira wants answers.

They’re nearing each other now. Meis is still facing away and steadily picking up his stride, clearly trying to exit the conversation, but Gueira won’t let him get away that easy. He speeds up in tandem, not backing down a single inch. 

“Meis! Why didn’t you tell me that-?” 

Meis abruptly spins around and clamps a hand over his mouth before the question is complete. 

“Quiet!” he hisses harshly. Some of the nearby people start to notice that something is going down here. Meis’s eyes flit back and forth, assessing the situation around them. He then yanks Gueira by the collar down a nearby side alley and away from prying ears.

Gueira tries to say something along the lines of _“Meis what are you doing?”_ but it’s muffled by the makeshift muzzle placed over him. Meis glowers, his one visible eye staring daggers into Gueira’s questioning own. 

“Don’t make a scene,” Meis warns tersely, under his breath. “Promise?” 

Gueira, very intimidated by this antagonistic reaction, just silently nods. 

Meis slowly removes his hand. “Good. Now listen to me, because I’m only gonna say this once.” 

“What the fuck-”

_“Only once.”_ Meis’s deep, commanding voice shuts him up. “Gueira, there’s a lot you don't know about this world.”

“Thyma explained the Burnish stuff. I know what you are,” he interrupts. 

Meis scowls at his second interruption but continues on nevertheless. “Then listen good, ‘cause I ain’t gonna beat around the bush here. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay the fuck away from all this. _From me.”_

Now even Meis is threatening him? What’s with these guys? Does becoming Burnish automatically make you weirdly cryptic and confrontational?

“You can’t control me,” Gueira snarls back. “What right do you have showin’ up after all this time?” 

Meis is momentarily taken aback by Gueira’s fiery retort. He takes the opportunity to shrug out of the hold. “I’ll do what I want, Meis. I’ll become the strongest Burnish in the world if I want to. You can’t stop me.” 

He came here for answers, but now his temper is flaring. Meis thinks he can just waltz in here and tell him what to do? And not acknowledge the mess he left behind five years ago? Without even a single apology? Hell no!

“Gueira.” Meis’s voice is less caustic and more pleading now. “Don’t. Just, stay out of this. It’s not your place.” 

“And it’s yours?” he challenges back.

“Yes,” Meis answers, but he doesn’t sound proud about it. He seems almost forlorn, accepting the responsibility. “It’s my sin.” 

_“‘Sin’?”_ Gueira scoffs, making a face. “Don’t try me with that lofty shit. I’m not afraid of this. Of you.”

He’s lying. 

He’s fucking terrified. 

But no way in Hell he’s gonna let Meis see it. 

“Besides, _you’re_ the one who ran away.”

He’s this fucking close to just storming off when Meis snags the sleeve of his jacket. 

“I never ran.”

Gueira stops. “Then what was it? Sure seemed like running to me. I waited. And waited. And waited for a response and you-”

“I…” Meis looks conflicted, trying to come up with something. “It wasn’t because of you.”

There’s a slight jump in Gueira’s heart at that reply, but his pissed off meter is too high to fully appreciate the admission. 

“Whatever.” He stalks out of the alley, not even looking back at his former flame. “I gotta get to practice.”

* * *

Gueira practically stomps onto the field when he arrives. He’s only a few minutes late, but Phil still sends him a side eye glance with a half-scowl because of it. The kids themselves are all stretching and beginning their warm-ups, so he’s at least not too late. 

His mood certainly hasn’t improved much, though. Too many Burnish getting into his life and telling him what he should and shouldn’t do when it’s none of their goddamn business. He’s a fucking adult, okay? He can make his own decision to fight for his life if he wants, thank you very much. So what if it’s an incredible, life-altering decision that will make him simultaneously incredibly powerful and incredibly vulnerable? He should be the one that makes it. Not some goth twink or old cowboy ex. 

“Gay!” a familiar voice calls out, pulling him out of his sulking. Running towards him, cleats slamming the AstroTurf, is Jason. Despite his shitty mood, seeing his little brother so happy to see him brings a smile to his face. 

“Jay!” 

He’s got his pads on and a big grin on his braces-filled face. “You didn’t say you were coming today!” 

Gueira nearly takes offense to that. “Why wouldn’t I be? You know it’s kinda like, my job.”

“Nah your job is flippin’ those burgers down the street,” Jason teases back. “This is your, uh…”

Gueira crosses his arms. “Go on,” he encourages. 

“Your debt to society?” he tries, shrugging his padded shoulders. 

“Debt to -?!” Gueira squawks at his brother. “Jay, you know I like bein’ here, right? I _chose_ to be here.” He shakes his head. “And where’d you even learn that phrase? What are they teaching you these days?”

“We’re learning civics in social studies,” he answers. 

“Yeah,” another voice - Leon, their current quarterback - adds. “Quiz is tomorrow.” 

“Well I’m glad you’re using practice time to study, but we have a game tomorrow too,” Coach Phil announces to the team, gathering them all at attention. The Argo Golden Bears all huddle up, eagerly awaiting orders from their coach. “Now, tomorrow we play the Lions. I think we’ve got a good shot since they’re a brand-new team. But even still, we can’t be too careful.” The boys all nod in agreement.

As much as middle school team sports are about just that - teams - there’s still a competitive edge in each of them. Sure, a big part of this is making sure boys know how to work together and cooperate and share and all that, but they’re also by definition competitive, and Gueira is too. He wants this to be the season that Jason Valente finally gets his breakout game. Or at the very least, gets to play something other than wide receiver. Ideally, he’d finally get to use that big strategic brain of his and play quarterback. 

Not that Jay’s a bad wide receiver by any means - he’s great at his role - but it’s not what he truly wants to do. Gueira knows what he’s truly capable of. How many other thirteen-year-olds spend their free time studying football tapes and taking notes? On paper, too!

Not many, he guesses. And that should be rewarded. 

Well, if the only criteria for the quarterback position was the strategy and playmaking, then Jason would win the position hands-down. No contest. 

Throwing, too. Jason’s a natural. He’s been tossing a pigskin perfect spiral crossing route since before he could even pronounce “Omaha”. His precision is unbeatable; he’s a spot-on deadeye. 

So what’s keeping him back? 

Gueira half-listens to Coach talk through the game plan for practice. He’s talking about some drills to start, then a scrimmage to end the night, but all Gueira can do is admire his little brother. There, wide-eyed and eager to perform, is Jason Valente. Tan, stick-thin legs peek out from under football pads. Even with the extra bulk, he still appears so much smaller than the rest of the team. 

Middle school is a shit time for everyone involved. Gueira’s pretty sure everyone can agree about that. Everyone is an asshole, makes fun of you for things you can’t control, and generally hates their shit life and takes it out on you.

The other shitty thing about middle school is that nobody's the same size. Some ten-year-olds are six feet tall and some fourteen-year-olds look like they’re nine. 

Jason unfortunately falls into the latter category.

He’s bony, skinny, a fuckin’ toothpick. It’s not his fault, though. Gueira sees him lifting weights in his bedroom, doing pushups like his life depends on it.

But all the physical training in the world can’t help a body that was doomed from the start. 

_“We’ve gotten the results. It’s as I suspected. Asthma, anemia, celiac…”_

Gueira shakes his head, hoping the memories disappear as he refocuses himself on the matter at hand. 

“And remember,” Phil says, looking expectantly to his team. They all nod, ready to let the cheer go.

**“GO BEARS!”**

The boys skitter off to drink some Gatorade and prepare for the drills. As they do, Gueira slides over to his head coach to talk plans. 

“Want me to take the offense, Coach?” he offers. 

“That’s fine with me. Just make sure that Leon gets some reps in.” 

That catches Gueira off guard. “Leon? Is he starting tomorrow?” 

Coach nods. “Yes, he’s going to be our starting QB for the season unless something changes.”

Gueira really, really just wants to go off right then and there about the decision. How come he decided that without consulting his assistant coach? How come Leon gets the slot despite having less than half the motivation the others have? How come Jason keeps being left behind? 

Instead, he hides it all behind an easy, as cool as a hothead like Gueira can sound, question. “And what about Jason?” 

Phil gives a hefty sigh. “Yeah, knew that was coming. Listen, Gueira, he’s got talent. Smartest kid I’ve ever seen when it comes to playmaking.” 

“So?” Gueira challenges. “Why not then?” 

“You know the reason,” Phil sighs again. 

On the other side of the field, the team starts running their suicides on the hash marks. Jason’s giving it his all, light on his feet and tapping each line with ease. But behind that speed and agility, Gueira can see the effort in his heaving breaths. 

“It’s not fair,” Gueira bites out under his breath. 

“No,” Coach Phil agrees. “It’s not. But I’d rather keep a kid safe and in another position than QB and in danger.” 

And the thing is, Gueira can't even refute that logic. At all. 

If anything happened to Jason, he’d be fucking beside himself. 

“But we play the Stags Sunday,” Phil continues quietly. “They’re a young team. Smaller, you know.” 

Gueira feels the grin starting to spread across his face. “You mean?” 

Coach holds up a single finger. “One quarter, Valente. Make it count.” 

“You betcha!” He’s nodding his head so fast his brain rattles around a bit. 

“Now go run some QB sneak drills. “

“You got it Coach!” 

With that promise, Gueira peps up and leads them all through their drills and eventual scrimmage. The grin he’s sporting never goes away, and every time he sees Jason with the ball, he beams with pride. 

By the time practice closes for the evening, Jason is beat (because he always gives 110%) and leaning against his brother for support. 

“I wanna go home. Mom’s making ziti,” Jason says after another gulp of Gatorade. 

“Oh she is?” Gueira replies, excitement filling his voice. “That sounds so good I-”

Wait.

Daemon-hunting. 

“Shit. No, I can’t. I got plans tonight.” He scowls and huffs a bit, angry again at the situation. “Can you tell her to save the leftovers though? And make sure Dad doesn’t steal ‘em again.” 

“Hm,” Jason considers. “It’ll cost you.”

_“Excuse me?”_ he balks. “Since when does my own brother extort me? You gettin’ in with the wrong crowd?” 

Jason punches him light-heartedly in the arm. “Nah, just fuckin’ with ya. Unless you are willing to actually pay?” 

Gueira tsks. “Don’t let Mom hear you say that word.” 

“You two drop F-bombs every other word!” Jason retorts with a giant eye roll. “Dad even more than both of you!”

“Because we are adults!” he answers proudly. “You’re just a kid.” He ruffles his hand through Jason’s helmet hair. 

“Yeah, and life is a nightmare,” he replies sarcastically after batting his brother’s hand away. 

“Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth,” Gueira agrees. 

A loud buzzing sound interrupts the two brothers, and Gueira quickly realizes it’s from his own phone. He rips the offending object out of his jacket and sees the caller is Galo. 

“Yeah, sorry Jason, gotta go.” 

“Kay. See you tomorrow?” 

Gueira nods. “Course. We’re gonna kick their ass!” 

“Yeah we are!” he cheers. 

“See ya Jay, love you!” he calls out as he heads back to his red Pontiac. 

“Bye Gay!” 

Once inside his vehicle, Gueira groans loudly and finally answers the incessantly ringing phone. 

“Yeah?” he grumble-greets.

“Gueira! What do I wear?” A voice laments on the other line. “I was thinking my uniform but that’s at the station and I don’t want to like, barge in and take it and leave, y’know? I could wear one of my old jackets too, but it has a tear in the sleeve and that would reduce its flame-retardant effectiveness. Oh, but what if I just didn’t wear a jacket? No shirt at all! Just let my burning soul shine through! But also-”

Gueira knows when Galo gets in a mood like this, it’s better to let him finish and not interrupt the process. He’ll figure out his decisions eventually; he just needs to talk the options at somebody before the logical answer will present itself. 

“And I’ll need a weapon, right? Well, I can bring my off-duty gun, and my Matoi, but that’s-”

“If you’re wondering what I’m bringing,” Gueira finally decides to interject. “I’m just bringing a helmet. I’ll kick the shit outta any daemons that try to fuck with me.” 

Well that, and he doesn’t exactly own any weapons to defeat evil fire daemons other than his fists. But hey, those have worked for him in previous brawls (only a few and he was defending his honor, _dammit)_ so why not? 

Once Galo finally gets his shit straightened out and the line abruptly clicks with a “See you soon!”, Gueira’s left to contemplate his life once again. The facts he’s been trying to outrun since they got nuked onto him this morning resurface. He’s still dealing with the fallout of all that and Meis. 

Meis. 

Well, if he didn’t trust Gueira back then to have his back with this shit, then he won’t trust him now. Allies, exes, whatever they are, Gueira’s gonna be the best daemon slayer this world has ever seen. 

He just needs to decide on that wish. 

* * *

They gather at the bridge downtown just as the ochre sunset fills the sky. Gueira didn’t exactly plan this out because he drives around in like three different circles before he finds a parking spot. 

Thyma awaits them beaming so bright she nearly illuminates the quickly approaching night. She’s not in her Burnish form yet, instead just in a hoodie and some jeans, but seems eager. Kraybey is perched atop her shoulder, tail swishing around her neck.

“I made it!” Gueira finally calls out as he stomps petulantly up the sidewalk. “Can’t find a single parking spot in this goddamn town.” 

“That’s okay!” Thyma reassures him. “You’re not late!” 

“I brought this, if it helps.” He holds out his helmet. “Where’s Galo?” Scanning up and down the street, he sees no sign of the boisterous firefighter. 

“I think he’s almost here,” Thyma answers. “Oh!” She points over his shoulder. “There!”

Galo is practically strutting up the street with some big contraption in his arms. There is no sign of a shirt anywhere near him. Typical. 

“And I brought **THIS!”** he dramatically declares, stamping the end of it into the ground. It’s a large decoration-type object with streamers around it and some Japanese lettering on top. 

“Just like the ancient firefighters of Japan!” He grabs the object, twirls it around, and then strikes a dramatic pose. “Galo Thymos, Matoi Ready! Daemons will cower in fear!” He spins the object around to his other hand, brandishing it proudly. “Normal fires are a breeze, so get ready to see how this burning firefighter's soul douses daemon flames!”

Gueira’s used to the theatrics by now, so he just quietly hums a few laughs to himself. At this point, he’s half-expecting confetti or some stage lighting. Maybe even some giant text behind him.

Thyma, on the other hand, has never experienced a Galo Announcement™ before and is unprepared for the sheer audacity of the whole thing. She’s wearing the funniest expression of bewilderment mixed with fascination, almost endeared by the presentation. 

“Well!” she claps her hands together. “I’m glad you two are taking your safety seriously. Daemon hunting is a dangerous business.” Her demeanor becomes more solemn, stern. “You can never be too careful.” 

Gueira and Galo nod in understanding. To be honest, Gueira doesn’t know what to fully expect, but he knows that this isn’t just a fun scavenger hunt. They’re here to fight and hopefully save lives in the process. And definitely not lose any. 

“Well!” Galo declares. “How do we start daemon hunting, Thyma? I’m itchin’ for some extinguishin’!” 

Kraybey hops down from her shoulders. “They tend to come out at night when people are scared and alone,” they explain. “But they can be difficult to track down.”

Thyma nods. “Burnish can track their magic with our Soul Flares.” With a gesture in front of her stomach, the obsidian pyramid is in her hands once again. It glows with a warm yellow light emitting from the edges. “From here, it’s mostly walking around the city and hoping for a pull. I hope you both brought nice walking shoes. It’s not as exciting as you’d think.” She smiles sheepishly. “But it is important.” 

“I’m ready to walk as much as it takes!” Galo answers heartily. “Lead the way!”

Gueira wonders if Galo’s ready to eat those words, since they’re an hour in and all they’ve done is wander. 

_“I heard that,”_ Galo grumbles back in his mind. 

“Fuckin’ telepathy,” Gueira huffs. They’re both trailing behind Thyma as she leads them on a wild goose chase around the city (or at least it’s starting to feel that way) as night overtakes Promepolis. He's half ready to give out a childish, indignant _“Are we there yet?”_ when Thyma suddenly holds up a hand. The light emitting from her Soul Flare brightens and starts flashing. 

“We’re close,” she says seriously. The trio takes few more steps and then suddenly, a complex series of glyphs appears in front of them. 

“Is that a labyrinth?” Galo asks, cocking his head to the side, studying it. 

“Yes,” Thyma answers with a nod. “I think we’ve caught the daemon before it’s latched onto anyone, but we must hurry. If it grows stronger, it will start to capture innocents.” 

“We’re ready to back you up!” Gueira declares with a slam of his fist into his palm. “Right?”

“Right!” Galo agrees, flashing another move with his Matoi. “We’ve got this in the bag! Galo Thymos is READY!!!”

Thyma turns around to face them, standing before the labyrinth entrance. “I appreciate your enthusiasm. Really, I do.” She gives them both an appreciative smile before it falters in something far more serious. “But no amount of it can help you here. Going into a daemon’s labyrinth is extremely dangerous. I will use my magic to protect you as best as I can, but you must be extremely careful. If you stray off the path, I may never be able to find you again.”

It’s a heavy warning, but that’s what they signed up for, right? Might as well go for it.

They nod, understanding the terms. 

Thyma then gestures to the portal. Galo, gung-ho as he is, marches forward with confident strides and a glorious brandish of his Matoi. Gueira, however, follows after donning his helmet and hesitantly stepping through. He doesn’t have the same bravado as his firefighter friend.

The maze that lies on the other side feels like some wicked dream. Colors drip from the ceiling, ropes of smoke crisscross over flames and twirl and seem to have minds of their own, lashing out and striking wherever they please. It’s unreasonably warm, and just being inside makes Gueira’s stomach drop. It’s an unsettling, trepidatious feeling, like the feeling you get right before you receive bad news you know is coming.

Thyma finally comes through with Kraybey close behind her. As she does, she leaps and in a flash of brilliant yellow light, lands in her Burnish form. 

Some nearby creepy dolls with their heads on backwards and with vines for arms and legs try to approach them when they sense her magic, but Thyma dispatches the enemies with ease. 

“Daemons line their labyrinths with familiars. They will not hesitate to harm you, so be careful!”

Galo watches Thyma do her job in awe before swinging his large decoration around and batting away more of the dolls. Gueira uses the newfound adrenaline surging in his body to kick some nearby familiars of his own. They give, but it still feels weird to be doing it. 

“Hey, quick question,” Galo says, wonder echoing in his voice. “Do we get to pick the outfits and weapons? Because like, I’ve got some ideas and-” 

“Another time!” Thyma replies, and they take off through the twisting, winding labyrinth. It almost makes Gueira feel motion sick, what with the topsy turvy way the walls curve and beckon you towards them. There's an acrid smell of smoke that’s increasing with every step they take through the colorful onslaught of the senses. It’s not a nice place to be in, and Gueira now understands why Thyma was so adamant about taking precautions. Any old human that wanders in here would be frozen in fear. It’s hellish, never-ending, and morbid.

When they finally reach the innermost sanctum of the labyrinth, Thyma stops before the door. She twirls and fires her pistols once more at the flames trying to lick her form before facing her two companions. 

“Beyond this door is the daemon. No matter what, stay back.”

“Will do!” Galo emphatically agrees. 

“We'll stay outta your hair,” Gueira replies. 

“Good.” Thyma nods and spins her guns around her fingers. “Then let’s handle this, shall we?”

They breach the door, which is patterned with cutouts as if it is some grotesque stained-glass window. Tentatively, Gueira steps into the room last. It really does feel like a boss room from a video game: open spaces, a high ceiling, lots of fire, and a weird figure that looks like a teddy bear patched together with different materials. Some of it looks particularly gruesome.

“Is that it?” Galo whispers. 

“Yes. Stay back!” 

Thyma takes a running start and bravely leaps right in front of the bear. Flames crackle and curl around her, but she is unbothered by them, dodging them easily. She reaches behind her wild auburn hair, and the sun emblazoned on her jacket glows with her magic. When she retracts her hands, her signature twin golden pistols are in them and she fires a shot into the air, grabbing the daemon’s attention. 

It turns its warped face and coal-black button eyes towards her. A loud, grating noise emanates from its form, and Gueira covers his ears instinctively. 

“Now, now,” Thyma tsks. “That’s no way to treat a lady!” She jumps high in the air once again and fires an absolute barrage of shots. Before there were two guns. Now there are no fewer than twenty. Gueira has no idea where they came from. It’s as if they appeared out of thin air.

They fire glowing yellow bullets of flame that pierce and assault the daemon, tearing at its form. It tries to maneuver around and dodge them, but there are just far too many bullets coming its way. 

While Thyma is preoccupied firing as many pistols as she can, Gueira notices a steady stream of flame approaching her from behind. Galo must see it too, because he calls out with worry in his voice. 

“Thyma! Look out!” 

The attack makes contact and Thyma, despite her advantageous position in the air, goes flying into the labyrinth wall. A little blood trickles down from her scalp as she grits her teeth and tries to recover from the hit. There’s a brief, ever so minute flash of fear in her green eyes, before it’s replaced with bitter determination and a shit-eating grin. 

“Gotcha!” 

The daemon followed Thyma after the hit; it’s intensely focused on where she landed. So focused, in fact, that it does not see the spinning circle of pistols aimed right behind its head. 

“Sunburst!” Thyma announces as they all fire at once. 

The attack is so blindingly bright that Gueira has to shield his eyes from the effect. It’s like a flashbang going off right in front of him. When he opens his eyes and blinks a few times to readjust, the entire warped labyrinth has disappeared. They are back standing in a dark Promepolis alley as if nothing had happened at all. In the daemons place lay an icy spiked shard.

“This is a Frost Core,” Thyma explains. “Daemons drop them when they are vanquished. They replenish Burnish magic and warm you back up!” 

She holds the Frost Core up to her own Soul Flare and the light within it seems to purify, like stoking embers of a fire. 

A crunch of gravel behind their group has Gueira swiveling around to fight another potential enemy. There’s only one person who it could be, and Gueira does not want to see them right now.

Sure enough, he was right. It’s Lio Fotia doing what he does best: mysteriously showing up and looking intimidating. 

“Would you like to share? There are a few charges in this one,” Thyma offers, extending her hand with the Frost Core in his direction. 

Lio shakes his head in refusal. “You’ll need it.”

“Oh?” Thyma responds, blinking once. “Is that a threat?” 

Lio scoffs. “No, just know that you’ll need it.” 

“Fine, don’t share. I already told you to stay away.” Her eyes narrow. “And yet here you are.”

“And?” Lio pries.

“And if you don’t leave soon, then we are going to have even bigger problems.”

Lio grits his teeth. His eyes fall upon Galo, the only thing he seems to focus on during these confrontations. “So? What did you think, Galo? Fun?”

“I guess?” Galo answers, unsure how to approach the situation. “I mean, I kinda prefer my Matoi Tech… But if doing this saves lives and stops fires, then I gotta do it! That’s a firefighter’s honor!” He declares that last bit with another Matoi flourish.

“Would you do it again?”

“Uh, maybe?”

Gueira is just getting more pissed off the longer he’s stuck in this alley with this snob. He gives a conspicuous snort and eyeroll, but Lio doesn’t react to it.

“You know you don’t have to,” Lio pointedly tells Galo. “There is no rule.”

“He’s correct,” Kraybey pipes up. “I cannot force you into a contract.” 

“This is your choice, Galo,” Lio tells him. “Do not forget that.”

“Can you just go already?” Gueira finally groans out of annoyance, breaking whatever spell Lio has put Galo under. “You’re pissing me off.”

“Fine.” Lio turns around with a haughty huff. “I will.” 

“Ughhh Galo,” Gueira bemoans once he’s left. “I do not understand what you see in him. He’s so edgy. I hate it.” 

“I uh, don’t see things in him! Well, I-”

“Shut up,” he cuts him off. “I’m tired. Let’s go home.” 

As they leave the despondent alleyway, the telltale clack of boots and the sight of a flowing coat on the roof above them signals another party that has been observing the whole time.

Gueira just glares at him until he’s out of sight. 

* * *

Despite how much he wants to sleep in after a thrilling night of defeating a daemon and saving innocent Promepolis lives, Galo’s body doesn’t let him, and he finds himself waking up with the sun. He’s got the day off and no plans other than watching Gueira’s game later, so he definitely could’ve slept in, but no. 

His life has significantly changed since he woke up in this place yesterday. Yesterday he woke up confused and a little apprehensive about what the Burnish world entailed, and today he woke up feeling pumped up.

Fighting daemons is dangerous - Galo understands that, witnessed it firsthand - but something about the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he swatted minion after minion with his ceremonial Matoi set his burning soul ablaze. It was like being on call with Burning Rescue, but somehow even more up close and personal. The common denominator is that Galo Thymos will fight any fire, stare any inferno in the face if it means he can save people. It’s his mantra, his duty. It’s the only thing he’s ever wanted to do, the only thing that makes him fire up like this.

Galo Thymos is a firefighter through and through. 

But that begs the question.

Is it worth it?

He’s already doing just what the Burnish do without any additional help. He already wields his Matoi in battle against flames that ravish and destroy everything in their path, so would becoming a Burnish really change that much in his life? Is it worth putting himself into even more dangerous situations if it means that he can save more people? 

Well, duh, of course it is. That’s just how he is.

His fight last night has pretty much convinced him that becoming a Burnish is the right thing for him to do. It’s the path he’s already on just taken a step further. Sure, Lio might be trying to scare him off and definitely has _something_ going on behind the scenes, but Galo’s always stared danger in the face and won. So yeah, he thinks becoming Burnish is the logical next step in his firefighting lifestyle. He’s even got weapon and costume ideas because he let his imagination wander a bit yesterday. 

So even despite all the warnings in his mind that are setting off flags he should probably pay attention to, Galo wants to become Burnish. 

There's just one major issue with that. 

“What do I wish for?” Galo loudly laments into his pillow. 

A weight presses into his bed, and Galo knows who it is. 

_“Anything you want!”_ they say, pressing a paw into his bare back. 

“I knoooow!” he groans. “I wish it wasn’t this hard.” 

“Galo!” his mom calls out. “Who are you talking to in there?” 

“Shit!” Galo curses to himself. “No one, Mom! Just planning my to do list!” 

Galo’s bedroom door cracks open and Maria Thymos peeks her head in. “Are you? Good, because the grocery list is on the counter. Can you go today?” 

“Yeah,” he answers, finally getting up from bed and giving his arms a good stretch. “How long till you leave?” 

“Hm, about 20 minutes,” she answers. 

“I’ll have breakfast with you then.” Galo stands up and some of the muscles in his legs protest after the insane amounts of walking they did last night. He grimaces slightly, but he’s had way worse before, so it only barely bothers him. He sits down at their kitchen table, a mug of coffee already placed out for him. Taking a sip, Galo watches as Matoi approaches Kraybey and gives another big sniff. 

“Hey girl,” he calls her over, hoping to distract her enough so that she doesn’t start another fight. She obliges, and Galo gives her a good scritching behind her ears as a reward. 

Though Kraybey’s face does not display any emotion, Galo can almost sense their disappointment that he’s petting Matoi over them. Sorry bud, she’s fluffier. 

Maria is sipping her own coffee and scrolling through her newsfeed on her phone while Galo ponders his predicament. 

“Hey Mom?” Galo starts. Maybe he just needs a second opinion on this whole “wish” business. “Let’s say, hypothetically, you could wish for anything you could ever want.” 

She looks up from her phone with a questioning expression. “Okay.” 

“So yeah...” He really doesn’t know where he’s going with this. “What would you wish for?” 

She purses her lips, looking pensive and taps a painted nail on her chin. “That’s a deep question, Galo.” 

“I know!” It’s why he’s been racking his brain over it for the last 24 hours. 

“I think,” Maria decides. “That I’d wish for actual funding for the public schools. You know we ran out of toilet paper? _Toilet paper!”_

Galo snickers at that with a good-natured shake of his head. “No, I can believe it. Where is that money going?” 

“Probably the superintendent's pocket,” Maria quips under her breath.

“Well,” Galo replies. “Maybe you just gotta take him down then!” 

“Next election season maybe.” She stirs her coffee and her bright blue eyes suddenly take on a more somber hue. “Though, honestly, if I could wish for anything, I’d wish your father were here.”

The jovial atmosphere comes crashing down around them, stifling wherever the conversation was heading previously. 

Galo remembers him, but only in fragmented bits and pieces. It’s one of the things that he hates about himself, that he can’t remember more. Even that night, Galo can barely remember anything other than the acrid smell of smoke, flames burning bright, and his eyes burning as he tried to see how to leave. The only thing that remains crystal clear in his mind is the feeling of that cloth in his fingertips.

Galo reaches his hand over his left wrist, smoothing the fabric with his thumb. The teal ribbon is the only thing he has left from that night, clutched in his fist like his life depended on it. And in a way, it did, leading him to safety.

This thin little strip of cloth is the last memento he has of his father.

The rest of it turned to ash along with Galen Thymos. 

A heavy silence falls onto their breakfast table at Maria’s admission, until Galo decides to break the tenuous tension. 

“I think that’s a great wish, Mom.”

Clearly, Kraybey does not understand how to read a fucking room because he suddenly shouts in Galo’s brain. _“Then wish for it right now!”_

_“No, not yet,”_ he chastises back. 

_“Why not?”_ Their head tilts curiously. _“Don’t you want to?”_

A part of him does, yes. Getting back all he lost that night in that horrific fire seems like an apt trade for battling daemons. But still, it’s a wish just for them, their family. Surely there’s something with a bigger impact that he could wish for?

_“My, you’re so indecisive,”_ Kraybey notes. _“Do you want to make the contract now?”_

_“No, not right now.”_

“That’s a nice thought, isn’t it?” Maria sighs wistfully, interrupting their telepathic conversation. “But even without him, we still are doing great, aren’t we?” She smiles. “He’d be proud.”

Galo nods in agreement. “Yeah. Thanks, Mom.”

There’s still an awkward silence between them after that. Neither expected things to get this heavy this morning, so they’re reeling from it a bit. Eventually, Maria stands up and begins packing her bag. 

As she passes by Galo (who’s still in deep thought trying to sort out what to do next) she gives his bed head mohawk a ruffle. 

“Don’t forget to go to the store,” she reminds him.

“Got it. Go handle those kids. Love you!”

“Love you too. See you tonight?” 

“Yeah, after Jason’s game.” 

“Oh, right. I’ll try to stop by, but I have a parent meeting.” Maria sighs. 

“Karen?” he asks with a cheeky grin.

“Yep. Big one.”

“I wish you luck.” 

“Yeah, I’ll need it.” She scrubs a hand down her face. 

“You got this!” Galo’s enthusiasm has returned, and he flashes his mom a big smile and thumbs up. “See ya!”

“Bye Galo!” 

The door shuts, and Matoi barks at Maria’s departure. 

“...So contract now?” 

_“No.”_

He just needs a little more time to think. That’s all. He’ll figure it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more lore:  
> -Frost Cores look like the absolute freezing bullet. I think it's a cool shape for the ice.  
> -Jason Valente is based on my actual little brother named Jason who is an athlete. No I did not tell my brother I put him in a fic kinda. He doesn't know I write fic. Also this Jason is different enough to be considered an oc at this point.  
> -American football is in this story. If you don't know how games and rules work and such, don't worry, you'll still be able to follow the important plot points. My uncle is a high school football coach so I grew up in a household that was very into it. It was fun dropping the lingo in!  
> -Yes I put in a simple plan reference I am but a simple emo music lover
> 
> This chapter did not have much Lio content (unfortunately) and was mostly setting things up. I needed to establish a lot of backstory and things about the world before the real plot can kick in.  
> Which it will next chapter, so get ready for that. We kick it into high gear and shit goes down!
> 
> That should be up in a week or two depending on how productive I am this weekend, lol. If I get a lot done, then I might update in a week. Thanks for all your support!!! 💖
> 
> Lio: [ design](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1264339475385090050) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5VR2kBUeDcKUV8xbkL2UGZ?si=uKUjQHa_RrOykBTKUZ6XDw)  
> Galo: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465576312369152)  
> Gueira: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465651881062400) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6doiKEiNKOID9NLayErpKC?si=HbCakW2XTLKWOPtORYp0uw)  
> Meis: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465759079120898) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1JHJ0Q1ItSkbm01YThTMtI?si=RHolpgxLRma0h9ZmtkiORg)  
> Thyma: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465852272373760) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/32v0MxGX2hB5pYRNkYUIy8?si=AvZkfR4KRpGMTeB57SO0ZA)  
> Kraybey: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465957163495424)
> 
> Hit me up here or on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/ashesfadein2gay) or my [ curiouscat! ](https://curiouscat.me/jabbles)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! Please leave kudos and comments and all that!! I love talking about this story!!! 💖  
> See you soon!


	6. Adscendo et Cado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Galo.” God, even his voice is shaking. “We have a really big fucking problem.”
> 
> “What is it, Gueira?” Galo’s voice instantly drops to a serious tone.
> 
> “There’s a daemon’s labyrinth at the- the-”
> 
> “Where?!”
> 
> “At Argo!” he practically shouts into the speaker, terror in his voice. “Here in the stands! We have a game in two hours and everybody is gonna be-!”
> 
> “Holy shit,” Galo gasps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!
> 
> _Adscendo et Cado:_ rise and fall
> 
> I had hoped to get this up earlier but this chapter turned into an almost 9k beast and I had life shit going on last week, so thank you for your patience! 💖
> 
> Big thank you to [ Lio ](https://twitter.com/lio_fotia) for helping me accurately recreate the details of working at McDonald's and for letting me borrow his oc Dani!!! 
> 
> And of course big thank you to my partner-in-crime [ Purbs ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs) for beta-ing and for giving me horrible angsty but incredible ideas! 
> 
> Now it's time to get the Real Shit™  
> Please take note of the updated rating/warnings because things get pretty dark from here on out so... keep that in mind. Also if I missed any tags please let me know! this is the first I'm writing a story that delves into these topics so I might mess up.  
> tw for death
> 
> And lastly, I'm sorry 😔
> 
> -Jabbles💕

Wishes, Burnish, daemons…

Goddammit!

Galo just can’t make up his fucking mind. He’s tried and tried and _tried_ and now he’s _this close_ to slamming his head into the nearest surface. Probably repeatedly.

It’s so unlike him, too. When has Galo Thymos, proclaimer of the brightest burning soul on the planet, ever been hesitant to do something? He trusts his gut – the aforementioned burning soul – more than anything. That’s how he’s lived his whole life, what’s led to him to the dream job he has now. It’s led him through perilous fires, incredible infernos, and everything in between.

And yet, this is what is throwing him for a loop. Is he just a coward? Or is it something else? Maybe he just needs more info. Yeah, never can go wrong with more data on the subject, right? Maybe that’s all he needs.

And so, Galo’s indecision leads him to text Thyma. They’d swapped numbers the other day in case he needed it, and he’s got nothing to do between now and the game tonight. Well, except for grocery shopping and probably a workout, but he’s so conflicted he can barely focus on weights or a shopping list right now.

They meet up at Mario’s because of course they do. Where else do you go when you are having a crisis? Pizza always helps. Good pizza even more so.

It’s mostly empty when he arrives, before the major lunch rush, but Galo still takes up residence in secluded corner booth just in case. He’s not exactly sure how well a random stranger would take to hearing about daemons and magic and all that, and he doesn’t really want to find out. Would they think they’re crazy or just call the cops? Probably best to just avoid that situation.

Galo gets his usual and orders one for Thyma as well. She arrives right after, a bright smile adorning her face. Despite being from Promepolis herself, it seems she’s never experienced the glory of a freshly made Mario pie, and well, we just can’t have that. It’s practically sacrilegious.

When Thyma finally bites into her first slice of the Mario special, her eyes light up immediately. 

“S’good,” she hums into the slice.

“Yeah!” Galo unceremoniously stuffs a slice of his own into his mouth, immediately followed by another. “It’s my favorite place!” Before he knows it, he’s finished half his pizza and another piping hot one is plopped onto their table by a winking Mario. 

“You seemed low.”

“You're the best!” 

Thyma eats in a happy silence for a bit before she delicately dabs her face with a napkin.

“So what did you need me for, Galo?” she asks. “Still unsure about it all?”

He must be showing it all on his face. “Well, uh… Yeah. Kinda hit the nail on the head there,” he admits, a little sheepish.

“I get it,” Thyma replies. “Y’know, I’m actually glad you’re taking the time to think about it, to be honest.”

Galo’s a little surprised. “You are?” He was half-expecting her to be exasperated about his constant bitching about being unable to figure out what do. That’s what his brain’s been telling him, at least.

Thyma nods. “Yes. I unfortunately didn’t get such luxury…” she trails off with a faraway look in her eyes.

That’s actually something Galo’s been wondering himself, but he was unsure if that was insensitive question to ask. It’s not like you can just be like _“Hey what did you wish for to get magical powers and be bound to risk your life to fight evil?”_ He was curious, yes, but it seemed like a private question, some sort of topic that shouldn’t be breached out of etiquette. But now he’s further intrigued, and they seem to be on good terms, so maybe?

“What did you wish for, Thyma?” he finds his mouth unceremoniously asking before his brain can stop it.

She startles at that, jumping slightly in her seat. “Well, I-“

“You don’t have to!” Galo quickly backtracks, internally cursing his lack of a filter. “I was just… curious, y’know? Thought it might help me decide.” He rubs the back of his head and looks at the wall. “Sorry.”

“No, no it’s okay,” Thyma reassures him. “It’s just… not a great story.”

“Well then, you don’t have to tell it,” Galo tells her honestly, giving her an out. “Up to you.”

“It’s alright.” Thyma gives a small smile. “I’ll start at the beginning. Before I made my contract, I was a grad student at the School of Pharmacy at Promepolis University.”

That’s not where Galo’s expecting the conversation to go. “Oh, that’s impressive.”

“I was working on my thesis project at the Pharmaceuticals Building downtown last year when…”

Galo remembers that event extremely vividly. “You were in that fire? I was too!”

Last year, the Vikare Pharmaceuticals Building in Downtown Promepolis suffered from a massive chemical explosion. The towering flames were one thing, but the fumes were even worse. It was Galo’s first real Five Alarm Fire. He was just out of the academy, had just joined Burning Rescue, and immediately they get one of the biggest disasters in years. Galo had squared up and fought it bravely, head-on, just how he does. He was doing a damn good job, too, up until that moment.

Near the end of the massive, epic battle, though, he got a little careless and bears the scars for his mistake.

“Yeah!” Galo reiterates and pulls down the sleeve covering his left arm. It’s covered in twisted, fractal scars, marring his tan skin all the way from wrist to shoulder. “Got these from that day. I was lucky that was all I got. Hurt like hell, but I saved a lot of people that day, so I wear these proudly.”

Thyma solemnly nods. “You’re a true hero, Galo.”

Galo definitely blushes at that.

“As for me, my story is far less triumphant.” She wilts considerably, her shoulder dropping. “I was working on my thesis that day. I was in one of the sterile labs when it happened. I wasn’t near the initial explosion, but the power had been cut and the door was electronic. It locked me in. No way out. The flames were coming and smoke was starting to fill the room. I knew I was going to die and there was nothing I could do.” She shivers at the memories.

“That’s horrible…” Galo breathes. He can’t even begin to imagine what that would feel like, dying alone and forgotten like that.

Thyma looks to her left, where Kraybey is sitting comfortably on the table, chewing on some pizza themself. “But just as I was losing consciousness, ready to give up, Kraybey appeared to me. They offered me the contract, and I took it without hesitation. I just didn’t want to die…”

She turns back to look at Galo, her eyes refilled with warmth. “I’m a little jealous, honestly,” she admits. “You get to choose what to wish for. All I got was to keep living.”

“But that’s worth something!” Galo quickly exclaims. “Thyma, you’ve been defending this city for what? A year now? Then you’ve saved countless lives! Isn’t that worth it?”

Galo didn’t mean to suddenly switch to such fervor, but for Thyma to not realize her worth really set him off.

She seems genuinely flattered by the comment. “Maybe you’re right. I shouldn’t be too upset after all I’ve done. Though I did end up dropping out of school.” Thyma frowns. “Trying to be a grad student and a Burnish at the same time didn’t work out.”

“That’s too bad,” Galo condoles. “I’m sure you’d be a badass pharmacist!”

“You need to consider that too, Galo,” Thyma tells him. “Being Burnish isn’t just a hobby. It’s who and what you are. It becomes your whole life. You might have to give up your job.”

Fuck, Galo hadn’t considered _that._ “Nah,” he quickly decides. “I’m too good of a firefighter. I can do both!” He flexes his muscles, admiring the scars spidering around his arm. “I’m the best!”

**Ding!**

The door to Mario’s opens once again, and Galo’s head immediately whips around. It’s not like he’s expecting it to be Lio, or even hoping that it’s Lio, but what if it was?

There’s still so much he does not understand about the mysterious Lio Fotia. If he could, he’d love to just have a one-on-one conversation with him to sort all this shit out. There’s more than he’s letting on, than he’s telling everyone, and Galo wants to know what it is. Gueira might think that he’s an enemy, someone that’s just an obstacle, but Galo doesn’t necessarily see it that way. In fact, he thinks that maybe if they tried, they could become allies. Maybe even friends.

It’s not Lio.

But it _is_ someone he knows.

“Aina?” Galo calls out.

“Oh hey!” The pink-haired firefighter replies, happy surprise blooming onto her face.

Galo gives her a big wave. “Fancy seeing you here!” They’re both off until tomorrow morning, and Burning Rescue are no strangers to Mario’s themselves.

Mario gives a thumbs up at Aina, indicating that he’s already got her order and is making it. Satisfied, Aina strolls over to Galo’s table.

“Whatcha up to? Oh!” That’s when Aina notices that Galo’s not alone. She looks over at Thyma, who is meekly shying away from the conversation. “Who’s this?”

“Aina, this is my friend Thyma!” Galo introduces.

“Well, Thyma, nice to meet you! I’m Aina, I work with Galo.” She extends her hand for a shake, and Thyma obliges.

“Nice to meet you,” she greets in response. 

“Mind if I join you?”

“Course!” Galo quickly answers before realizing that’s not necessarily his call to make. “Oh, sorry. Thyma, is that okay?” He’s trying to subtly send her a message that they’re good, Aina can totally be trusted, but also, they can’t continue this Burnish conversation with another in attendance.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Thyma warmly replies. He thinks she got the idea. Hopefully.

“Great!” Aina boldly slides into the booth next to Galo, leaning into Thyma’s space. “So how do you know Galo?”

Thyma clams up, eyes flicking over to Galo as if to ask for a rescue. He doesn’t really have any ideas either, though. He can’t very well say _“Thyma is a Magical Burnish and is helping me learn about what that means before I make a contract with a talking cat that is invisible to everyone else!”_

“We’re in the same club…” His flit around the portraits and pictures adorning the walls of Mario’s Pizza hoping for any inspiration. He lands on a picture of an old timey motorcycle. “A Motorcycle Club!” he blurts out.

“I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing,” Aina remarks, leaning her chin into her clasped hands. “Which one?”

“Uhhh…” _Quick Galo! Just say something! Anything!_ “Mad Burnish!”

_Not like_ that, _you fucking idiot!_

Thyma winces at his horribly failed attempt at lying. However, despite it all, Aina seems to accept the answer.

“You know I’ve got a motorcycle too. Maybe I could join!” she laughs.

“Well, uh, right now, it’s very…” God, how does he word this? “Exclusive.”

“Fine.” Aina shrugs. “As long as it’s not a cult. It better not be a cult.”

“It’s not!” Thyma has finally rejoined the conversation. “Really, it’s not.”

“I know! Was just teasing you,” she replies with a wink.

“Nice one!” Galo says with a horribly forced laugh. Desperate to change the subject, he starts to push the conversation elsewhere. “Hey Aina.”

“Yeah?” she replies after taking a sip of her pop.

“If you could wish for anything in the world, anything at all, what would you wish for?”

Aina looks puzzled by his sudden question. Thyma is similarly surprised by his blatant wording. Well, it’s not like Aina will know that he means it literally. She’ll probably just think it’s some hypothetical get-to-know-you thing, right?

And to be fair, Galo was planning on easing into the subject, but once again his mouth worked faster than his brain, so he’s left with that.

“I think,” Aina taps her chin. “That I’d wish for the power to never have to sleep again. Do you know how productive I’d be if I never got tired? I could do so much!”

“That’s a good one!” Galo laughs. “Never having to sleep… I could be on call all the time! Ready to defend anyone!”

“But in all honesty…” Aina looks more serious as she twirls her straw with a painted nail. “I’d wish that I could spend more time with my sister. She’s so busy that I feel like I barely even know her anymore…” She sighs deeply, gazing forlornly into her Coke. “She’s so stressed all the time about getting grants and stuff. If I could make all of that easier for her, I think that’d be nice. I owe her a lot.”

It’s not the answer Galo’s expecting, but it’s sincere and sweet. A good wish. Aina would make a solid Burnish, Galo thinks.

_“Unfortunately, she does not have the potential,”_ Kraybey echoes in his head _. “But_ you, _on the other hand…”_

“That’s a good wish,” Thyma agrees, cutting off the cat’s telepathic remarks. “I’m sure your sister would agree.”

“What does she do again?” Galo asks. He’s heard a bit about Aina’s genius older sister, but not that much. Mainly he knows that she does Very Important Science Things and is almost always in the lab.

“Heris is a postgrad researcher in the theoretical physics department at PromU. I couldn’t tell you a damn thing about what she researches other than ‘thermodynamics’. Heat science.”

“So like... fire science?” Galo asks excitedly. Firefighting requires a deep understanding of the science of fires, how they start, how they grow, etc. He’s studied hard! To think that an expert was so close that-!

Aina shakes her head. “Not what we do, no. It’s more like the science of the heat of the universe or something? I don’t know too much about it. Sometimes it sounds downright apocalyptic.”

“Apocalyptic?” Thyma echoes in confusion. “How so?”

“She mentioned something about the quote _‘inevitable heat death of the universe and everything we’ve ever known’_.”

“Peachy,” Galo remarks dryly. Kraybey decides that they’ve had enough pizza and jumps off of the table, maneuvering between Galo’s feet under the table. 

“Yeah, but she’s still awesome.”

“She sounds cool.”

Aina smiles proudly. “She is.”

“So Thyma, what do you do?” Aina asks the girl. Thyma is a little caught off guard by the question, but answers regardless.

“I’m studying to be a pharmacist,” she answers. “Er, was. Money got kinda tight so I’m trying to get some more before I resume schooling.” It’s a lie, and Galo knows it, but it’s a believable one.

Because she can’t just say her job is fighting daemons, now can she?

“Pharmacy, eh? That’s noble.” Aina stuffs her face full of a Mario classic and nods approvingly.

They eat and chat for a bit longer until Thyma says she has to go. Before she departs, Galo makes sure to get confirmation on their plans for tonight.

“Hey Thyma, we still on for our meeting tonight?” he asks as she gets up from the table and gathers her belongings.

“Yep!” she answers cheerfully. “See you then!”

“Sounds good!”

Thyma departs and the two firefighters’ gazes follow her out the door as it chimes once again.

There’s a brief moment of silence before Aina breaks it.

“She’s hot.”

**“AINA!”** Galo blurts out, spitting some Sprite out with it.

“What?” Aina shrugs. “Call ‘em as I see ‘em. Can I get her number?”

“Uh, sure?” Galo’s usually one to avoid giving out numbers, privacy and all that, but he trusts Aina. She’s one of his closest friends.

“Thanks,” Aina replies with a loud pop of a blown kiss. “You’re the best.”

“Yeah, sure.”

* * *

It’s Gameday. Tonight is the epic showdown of the Argo Golden Bears vs the Lerna Lions. Usually, gamedays give Gueira more energy, a pep in his step, but not today. Gameday starts way too fuckin’ early.

He’s got a morning shift at Mickey D’s that fucking kills because of his late night of slaying daemons with Thyma and Galo. Sure, they did good work and all, stopped a daemon from taking any victims, truly a commendable effort, but that doesn’t make up for the fact that he got barely any sleep.

Gueira mopes around in his stupid visor as he makes black coffees for busy mom after busy mom and desperately wishes he could drown in one of his own. He knows his eyes have noticeable bags under them and he probably looks (and definitely feels) half dead. 

Of course, his coworker Dani notices and feels the need to comment about it.

“You look like shit, man,” he tells him during a brief lull.

“Yep,” Gueira agrees sarcastically. “Thanks for noticing.”

“Course!” Dani grins impishly back. “So what happened?”

“Had a late night,” Gueira gruffs back as he grabs a burrito from the fridge. “That’s all.” He finishes the statement with a poignant slam of the microwave.

“Oh, I see. A fun night then?” he pries, nudging his side. Gueira knows what he’s asking about. 5 AM McDonald’s shifts for Gueira means that he’s stumbled in more than a few times… less than sober. Sometimes that means just a little still-drunk, but more often, it means hungover.

Not the case this morning, but it’s no less of a headache.

“Nah, just hung out with Galo late.”

“Well, perk up,” Dani recommends with a poke at Gueira’s nametag. “Or Hilda’ll have your ass.”

“I know,” Gueira snaps back. Their shitty microwave loudly beeps, and he takes the item out. “I’ll do my best.”

“Good luck!” Dani gives one more grin and a wink before scampering out to handle some more customers.

Ughhhhh.

How long until he can get out of this? Each day seems more demoralizing than the last, honestly. This was never supposed to be the be all end all of Gueira’s Valente’s life. He should be on the field.

At least he will be tonight, coaching the Golden Bears to a victory.

After getting chewed out by a Karen for giving her daughter “the wrong pony toy” (apparently she wanted the purple one, not the pink one), Dani continuing to cause problems on purpose just to fuck with him, and Hilda commenting on his lethargic work ethic, Gueira’s really fucking ready to get out of there.

When it finally hits 1 PM, Gueira skedaddles out the door like the police are hot on his tail.

He makes it back to his place and nearly tears off the uniform that smells like fry oil no matter how many times he runs it through the washing machine. He takes a shower, eats some food that is blessedly not McDonald’s, and texts Jason good luck for the upcoming game. He doesn’t bring up what position he’ll be playing though. No need to rub salt into that wound. Gueira’d do anything to preserve that crooked, braces-filled smile.

Around 4 PM, Gueira heads to their stadium. It’s not much - nothing compared to the grandiose high school or college stadiums - but it has some tall bleachers and decent enough locker rooms. And since Gueira is the “volunteer assistant coach”, that means one of his duties is also preparing said locker rooms. Sometimes, he feels like less of a coach and more of a ballboy. He’s not even getting paid for any of this.

It’s quiet and empty in the home team locker room as Gueira looks over his equipment checklist on his clipboard. Pads, check. Balls inflated, check. Extra water bottles, check. Good, everything seems to be in order.

None of the kids have shown up yet, and they probably won’t for another hour or so. Kickoff is at 6 PM, so they’ve got some time before all the fans show up. It’s their first big game of the season, so they’re expecting a good crowd. Lots of cheering fans to watch the Golden Bears show off all they’ve got.

Gueira feebly kicks at a locker room bench as a small, unseen act of indignance. It’s childish, but it does help somewhat.

He’s just still pissed about what happened last practice. He knows that Jason’s gonna come out here and give his all. And yet, he’s not going to be given the position he should. All those fans that will be lining the stands… Are all those people even gonna see him? Do they have any idea what they’re missing?

There’s nothing Gueira can do about it right now, though. Coach’s word is final.

He kicks the bench again.

As Gueira exits the locker room, for some gut reason, he wanders under the home bleachers. They’re empty, uncomfortable benches that parents diligently sit on despite how it cramps their asses. The really intense ones don’t sit, though; they stand the whole time shouting about how their kid is the best and how all the refs suck. The structure is supported by a few hefty concrete pillars, leaving space for people to mill about underneath.

The underside of the bleachers looks the same as always, but as a gust of wind blows through, Gueira shivers at how incredibly cold it feels.

Scanning nearby, the afternoon sun still shines warmly. There’s no sign of anything other than an offhand cold wind, so Gueira shrugs it off as simply anticipation for the upcoming game. As he passes by a strut holding the bleachers up, though, something unfamiliar catches his eye. That wasn’t there before, was it? No, he would’ve definitely seen that. Is it kids fucking around and graffitiing up the concrete again? Teenagers, always thinking it’s funny to write “fuck” in a public place.

Moving closer to try and get a better look, Gueira sees an object. Embedded in the concrete is an odd object that seems to be emanating a nip to the air.

He recognizes it.

A Frost Core.

The breath is stolen from his lungs as Gueira realizes what this means. A Frost Core _here?_ That means that there’s a daemon here! Where all of the kids are going to be! All their parents!

Mom!

Dad!

Jason!

Holy fucking shit.

What can he do? He doesn’t have the skills to handle this on his own! Anxiety trickles down his nerves as his arms begin to shake and his vision begins to blur. He can’t let this happen HERE! Not now! No fuckin’ way! Anywhere but here!

Somehow, Gueira manages enough coherence to take his phone out despite his shaking hands. His heart rate is skyrocketing as he realizes how horrific this could be. Catastrophic. Devastating. Apocalyptic.

He’s not sure what else to do other than call Galo.

“Hey man, what’s up? I’m at the grocery store,” Galo answers easily and completely unaware of the situation he’s just stumbled into.

“Galo.” God, even his voice is shaking. “We have a really big fucking problem.”

“What is it, Gueira?” Galo’s voice instantly drops to a serious tone.

“There’s a daemon’s labyrinth at the- the-”

“Where?!”

“At Argo!” he practically shouts into the speaker, terror in his voice. “Here in the stands! We have a game in two hours and everybody is gonna be-!”

“Holy shit,” Galo gasps. “That’s…”

**_“I KNOW!!!!”_ **

“We gotta get Thyma.”

“I don’t know what to do, Galo! Jason is supposed to be here in like thirty fucking minutes! The whole team is! They’re all coming and I-! I can’t do shit! I can’t let this thing fucking hatch when there are fifty middle schoolers around! We can’t!-“ He’s falling into hysterics now, clutching his heaving chest.

“Gueira, Gueira, you need to calm down,” Galo urges. “We won’t be able to help if you’re like this.”

Taking the advice, he tries to gain some semblance of control over his breaths. One, two, okay, they’re gonna do this.

“That’s better,” Galo encourages. “Listen to me, I’m gonna get out of here and call Thyma. We’ll be there soon.”

_“In the meantime, stand guard here,”_ Kraybey’s voice echoes in both their heads. _“That way, we can track it.”_

“O-kay…?” Gueira unsteadily agrees.

“Be safe, yeah?” Galo says. “Jason’s gonna be fine. They all are. I’m Galo Thymos and I will save them all! What kind of firefighter would I be otherwise?” His confident voice is surprisingly reassuring. He’s done this before.

“Yeah…”

“I’ll be there ASAP!”

The line clicks.

Gueira turns around to see Kraybey perched on a fencepost. They seem very nonplussed at the drastic situation they’re facing right now. As if this is just an average Friday afternoon and they’re not dealing with the lives of everyone he cares about in the balance.

“Am I doing the right thing?” he asks the creature. “Is this really okay? I don’t wanna fuck this up, dude!”

“Logically, this is the safest option,” they tell him. “You cannot fight a daemon in the state you are in now. You would be slaughtered.”

“Yeesh,” Gueira cringes.

“And if left untreated, this daemon could significantly harm those who attend the football game tonight, including your team and family.”

Gueira gulps.

“If you made a contract right now, though,” they continue. “You could save them right now. You wouldn’t need to wait for Thyma and Galo. You could do it all on your own.” They tilt their head, mouth splitting into an enticing grin. “Doesn’t that sound good?”

“It does…” Gueira starts to agree before he stops himself. “But I trust Galo. Thyma will come. They have to.”

“Suit yourself.” Kraybey jumps off of the fence, approaching Gueira. “But if it hatches before they get here, you will need to go inside so we do not lose the daemon in the labyrinth. Are you prepared to handle that?”

Is he? That’s a heavy question, honestly.

At the same time, the answer is easy in his mind.

“Of course. Anything to save them,” he declares confidently.

That’s why, when a portal appears in front of him, beckoningly him terrifyingly in, Gueira steels his determination.

He sends a text to Jason and Coach Phil that he’s gonna be late, but he’ll be there, he promises.

No hesitation.

He jumps in.

* * *

By the time Galo’s motorcycle screams into the Argo Middle School parking lot, his heart is racing as fast as he just went. They made good time, all things considered.

His poor cart of groceries lay abandoned in the store after the news was dropped. After that, he frantically called Thyma and explained the situation, she immediately agreed to help, and then Galo sped right over to pick her up. Now they’re in a parking lot that is rapidly filling with parents and excited athletes and Galo _knows_ they’re running out of fucking time.

He even spots Gueira’s parents and Jason heading into the stadium. They give him bright smiles and big waves, and Galo musters up the closest to a grin he can right now and waves back. He hopes it was enough. 

They buy their tickets and then fast walk as much as they can without drawing too much attention to themselves. When they finally see the strut, there is indeed a swirling vortex in front of it.

_“Here!”_ Kraybey calls to them. _“We are in a room with the daemon, hiding from it!”_

_“We are on our way!”_ Thyma replies back. _“Just stay put and stay safe! Gueira?”_

_“Fine, just hurry up!”_ Gueira’s voice answers. That’s a relief, at least. They’re okay so far.

“Shall we go?” she vocally asks Galo, to which he nods confidently. He might not have his Matoi with him today, but he’ll fight with everything he has! He won’t let this daemon win!

He won’t!

They breach the surface together, Thyma holding his hand to keep him steady. Once they cross the shimmering threshold, they’re thrown into a topsy turvy world of too many sights and sounds and things trying to kill them. Galo takes a deep breath before facing the road ahead.

Before, he had his trusty Matoi with him, but now, he’s weaponless. All he’s got right now are his wits and his own brute strength, but how far can those take you in a magical daemon’s labyrinth? 

Galo is one to always boast his skills. He’s the best firefighter out there, dammit!

However, one of the things that makes him the best firefighter out there is his gear. And that he is severely lacking at this moment. 

The labyrinth they stumble into is filled with strings and articles of clothing that dance and weave as if they are either blowing in the wind or are alive themselves. Some of the clothing is wafting like smoke, curling and wispy. Other articles are literally bright colored flames that are manipulating and swirling as if they are threads themselves, forming discordant outfits of flame.

A particularly scary knitted cap walking on its strings tries close on them, but Thyma dispatches it with a quick firing of her weapon. 

“We’ve got to work quickly!” she urges, pulling them both along the glassy floor of the labyrinth. Streamers and ribbons drape from the curved ceiling as if they are being ushered towards drawn curtains, beckoning them forward. 

Thyma leads the way as they bust through the curtains, finding themselves standing on some sort of stage. Lights flash and blind Galo, and he closes his eyes instinctively. The sounds of cameras clicking and garbled, mangled giggles are filling his senses. Acrid smoke fills his nostrils, mixed with some intoxicating perfume. It’s disorienting, grating, and Galo just wants it to stop.

It’s a lot, almost too much, and he can feel himself being lulled, hypnotized. Something yanks on his wrist, and Galo opens his eyes to find himself being pulled by a thread that has wrapped around his arm. It beckons him, leading him to a precipice. Where it has ensnared him burns, the ribbon melting into his skin with a sharp pain.

That’s when the spell begins to wear off, and he realizes the danger he’s in. 

Thyma swoops in, snapping the thread with a swift fire from her weapon. 

“That was a close one!” she exhales before twirling her pistol and sheathing it. “You’d better stay close, Galo!” 

“Uh, yeah!” He nods and reclasps Thyma’s hand.

_“Are you guys here yet?”_ Gueira’s voice comes through once again. _“I’m gettin’ a bad feeling. It’s getting too hot in here. I don’t wanna burn to death. Please.”_

_“We are on the way,”_ Thyma reassures him. 

_“Don’t worry, Gueira,”_ Galo adds, even if he himself isn’t feeling the most confident right now either. 

Yet, at the same time, Thyma’s sunny grin and warm hand in his own is grounding him, reassuring him that they will make it before anything bad occurs. It reminds Galo of saving people from a fire with his own cocksure, proud grin on.

When people are thrown into terrifying, dangerous situations, they can react badly. Clamming up, frozen in terror, and often it takes a warm reassuring smile to thaw that ice. Galo’s gotten pretty good at it himself during his rescue training, but now he’s on the receiving end of Thyma’s, and it’s surprisingly nice.

They escape the stage and end up in another weird hall. Blinding stadium lights still shine down, and warbling cheers of daemon familiars egg them on. Cleats tied to struts in the ceiling hang down, and some look like they even have eyes peering down at them, watching and waiting. 

They approach what looks like a large locker door with glowing fire glinting through the metal slats. Some more of the laces in the ceiling try to reach out towards them, but they retreat with a glare from Thyma. She opens the door, and they travel deeper into the labyrinth. 

“We are getting close,” Thyma murmurs. “I can feel it.” An odd silence has fallen upon them in the new room they are in, most of the ghastly familiars left behind. The only sounds filling the room are the crunch of their footsteps on grass that isn’t really grass. It’s more like yarn made to look like grass that smolders under their feet and crunches as they step carefully towards the awakening daemon. Thyma is still holding tightly onto Galo’s hand, leading him through this harrowing endeavor.

Thyma is so powerful like this, Galo thinks.

Even in this nightmarish scenario, she seems so confident and bright. How brave she must be to drop everything, to risk it all to save all the people in the stadium above them and expect nothing in return. Galo always prides himself on being the goddamn best at saving people from fires, from destruction, so that no one will ever have to withstand what he went through. 

He thought he was doing a pretty good job at it when he joined Burning Rescue right out of college. So far, he’s saved countless people over his one-year tenure and bears the scars to prove it. They send a tingle down his arm, even now. 

He’s confident and loud, but he’s got the skills to back it up. Captain Ignis praises him for them, even if he is a little reckless sometimes. Remi, Varys, Aina, Lucia - they’ve all got his back and all work together to save people. They have each other to rely on. If Galo needs help, one of his team members is right there to catch him if he falls. They have backup.

Thyma doesn’t. 

If she disappeared in the depths of a labyrinth whilst trying to save the people of Promepolis, would anyone know? Would anyone care? 

Would anyone even miss her?

It’s a terrible thought, but it may be what the Burnish face.

And no one deserves to face that alone. 

“Hey, Thyma…” Galo’s stopped walking in the midst of his ruminations. 

She follows in turn, turning around to face him with an expectant look on her face. 

“I've been doing a lot of thinking, and…” God, why is it so hard to say this? Why does this scare him, of all things? Take the plunge, Galo. If you can’t do this, how the hell are you going to be able to defeat daemons? 

“I think I decided on my wish,” he finally says. 

There, was that so hard? 

Galo isn’t sure what to expect when he tells Thyma, but she suddenly looks starry-eyed. “Are you sure?” she quickly asks, taking a few steps closer to him. 

“Well,” Galo suddenly appears a little bashful, rubbing the back of his head. “I wasn’t sure at first, especially after what you told me today. I don’t want to give up what I already do, you know?” 

Thyma nods. 

“But after seeing what you can do and knowing that daemons could be lurking around any corner ready to destroy lives… I just can’t live my life knowing that and not doing something about it!” 

“Galo…” Thyma’s big teal eyes widen in concern. “Are you sure? What made you decide-?” 

“Like I said, I’ve been thinkin’. But it was mostly you.” 

“Me?” she squawks, surprised at the mention. 

“I mean, fuck, Thyma. You’ve been doing this by yourself for how long? A year? Has anyone even thanked you? No one knows what you’re doing and-!” 

He stops himself briefly, trying to refocus his thoughts. 

“When I get dispatched to a fire, I have my whole team backing me up. Lucia on the comms, Varys and Remi with their own machines, Aina in the sky, and Ignis leading us all. I wouldn’t have survived a single day without them!” he tells her, completely sincere. He really wouldn’t have. “And I guess I realized that you’ve been doing the same thing as me all this time.” Now Galo’s found his stride. “You’re fighting fires just like me, but in the form of evil daemons. But you don’t have a team or any gear or anything, really. You just have your magic and your will to protect people. To do that is… That’s very impressive, Thyma.” 

Her expression has softened, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears and questions. 

“And even if I don’t fully know what I’m doing, even if I already fight fires and save lives on a daily basis, I still think that pales in comparison to you. So if I can take some of that burden, if I can be your backup, then I think that would be truly wonderful.” 

“Are you...” She’s nearly whimpering, her bottom lip trembling. “Are you serious?”

“Course!” Galo boasts whole-heartedly. “That’s a Galo Thymos Guarantee!” He winks at her in an attempt to brighten her wavering mood. 

“I- I don’t know what to say.” Her shoulders droop. “Am I that transparent? Is it that easy to see how alone I feel?”

Galo gawks at her complete misreading of his confession. “No, I just-! I want to help you.”

“Galo Thymos…” Thyma regains her bright smile, even if it is a bit watery. “You’re too kind for this cruel world, you know that?” 

The words ring an odd bell in his head, but he doesn’t know why. 

“And I would be honored if you joined me.” Thyma wipes the escaping tears from the corners of her eyes. “Some Burnish I am, crying just because someone called me out on my bullshit.” 

“It’s not bullshit!” Galo recoils. “Thyma, anyone would feel like that. The fact you’ve done so well all on your own… It’s remarkable, really.”

“Well.” Thyma straightens her posture, finally proud and ready to take on this daemon. “What’s your wish then? We’ll take care of it as soon as I take care of this pesky daemon. Sound good?” 

“Uh yeah,” Galo agrees. “And my wish, well…” He runs a hand through his wild mohawk. “I dunno if it’s selfish or lame or whatever or even possible but… I wanna see my dad again. I think it would make my mom really happy.”

“Galo…” Thyma’s voice is kind, comforting, and warm. “That’s not a bad wish. That’s a great one. You must love your mom a lot. And your dad.”

“Yeah.” 

A few more droplets of water spill from her eyes, and she shakes them off. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get like this right now. We have a job to do!” 

“Yeah we do!” Galo cheers, bringing back his own enthusiasm. 

“And I’ve gotta do a good job if I’m gonna take you under my wing! Can’t have the rookie falling down on the job, now can we? I have to be a good role model!”

“Rookie? Again?” Galo groans.

“Sorry, that’s what you are!”

_“Ugh.”_

“Now!” Thyma twirls on her feet, pirouetting once before she pulls the obsidian pyramid from her navel. “Let’s end this quickly so we can celebrate this tremendous new partnership!” 

Another blinding light engulfs Galo’s vision, but this one isn’t one to shy away from. It’s warm, inviting, like staring into the sun as it starts to rise on a pleasant day. When it dissipates, Thyma stands ready to do battle. 

_“I’m not afraid anymore.”_

_“I don’t have to be alone anymore.”_

Galo hears the words echo in his mind. He’s not sure Thyma meant to share them, but they nevertheless fill him with pride. 

He’s doing the right thing. 

Galo Thymos, Thyma Cado, an unstoppable Burnish duo.

_“Thyma, Galo, hurry!”_ Kraybey tells them, urgency in their voice. 

“Don’t worry!” Thyma’s voice is airy and light, dancing and lilting like a spring day. “This’ll be nothing!” 

Another spin and flourish and some flaming familiars are no more. Galo is left watching wide eyed and impressed. After she takes care of this daemon, will he be able to do incredible things like that? Oh shit, this is really happening, isn’t it? He’s gotta finalize his design. And a weapon! Matoi, of course, it’s gotta be. Oh! And a name! Maybe? Does he need a Burnish name? Or should he just be Galo? There’s so much to decide!

Thyma, nearly giggling and giddily prancing around, dispatches familiars like they are nothing. They finally reach the door behind which the daemon lay and carefully open it to find Gueira and Kraybey safely ducked behind a bench. Around them are rows and rows of dancing what appear to be spools and shirts, all cheering for the main event. In the center of the clearing, sitting atop a tall table, lay the Frost Core. 

“You’re just in time!” Kraybey tells them. Galo sends a quick smile Gueira’s way, grateful that he’s alright. 

“Told ya I’d be okay,” he boasts, bumping Galo’s outstretched fist. 

“Shh!” Kraybey shushes them just as a great chill envelops the room. “It’s hatching.”

Galo watches intently and a little anxiously. He suppresses a shiver (thankfully he’s got his burning soul to keep him warm), and in a bright flash, something else replaces the small frozen object. In its place is a tall form with swirling ribbons for arms and a spool for a head. It’s just as creepy and unnerving as he expected. 

“Well, now it’s my time to shine, isn’t it?” Thyma grins, her confidence beaming. “Let’s get this gone so you can get to your game!” 

She vaults over the bench, landing gracefully on the burnt grassy floor. 

“Well hey there!” Thyma greets casually. 

An odd, discordant noise echoes from the daemon. It seems to be angered by Thyma’s presence. She summons one of her pistols, twirling it with her finger, feigning boredom. 

“Let’s wrap this up quick. I don’t have all day.” 

The pistol stops spinning and Thyma grabs it, aims, and fires right at its malformed head. The shot lands, knocking the creature off its podium and onto the ground. It almost doesn’t even fight back, allowing Thyma to approach it directly and take some more shots, before dodging and summoning attacks of its own. Threads of fire extend from the ground, trying to wrap themselves around her and stop her onslaught. There’s a moment of apprehension from Galo before he’s quickly reassured. Thyma knows what she’s doing. 

She shoots a quick wink at Galo and Gueira before leaping high into the air. When she reaches her apex, several more of her golden weapons appear, formed from the flames surrounding her. The guns all begin firing at the grasping threads and ribbons. It’s a barrage that the daemon can’t keep up with, and its tendrils are failing. 

Thyma lands, and with another sunny yellow light, creates more and more of the pistols to fire. Speaking of fire, the ground itself has started to alight, and Galo’s firefighting instincts are calling to him to put it out. 

Soon, he reassures himself. Soon he will be able to help, but right now, he needs to let Thyma finish her work. It’s too dangerous for him to hop in right now.

Thyma tilts her head back over her shoulder towards her entourage, beaming brightly. Galo’s pretty sure he has a similar starry-eyed look on his face. Watching Thyma battle is so captivating, incredible, almost beautiful in the way she creates shining sparks and lights from her weapons. She winks, and Galo takes that to mean she’s almost done.

As the ribbons whip and try to strike her, Thyma boldly grabs onto one and lets it lift her high into the air. She has a euphoric expression on her face as she flies higher, higher, until she is nearly at the ceiling of the large dome-like chamber they are in.

Flying through the air, Thyma almost looks like an angel. Effortless, ethereal, dazzling, and inconceivably bright. The warm yellow light of her magic engulfs her almost in the shape of beautiful wings. She is soaring, hair spreading out from her like a fluffy orange cloud. Her teal eyes twinkle with the assured confidence of victory.

It’s time to end this.

She unleashes her finisher. 

“SUNBURST!” Thyma declares proudly as dozens and dozens of her golden pistols, all shimmering like liquid gold, fire at once. It’s a complete onslaught, and the ribbon daemon is thoroughly vanquished, taking each of the massive hits one after another until nothing is left but bullet-ridden strips of fabric. 

Thyma smiles with relief, proud of her accomplishment, still soaring above the victorious battlefield. 

She’s won.

She did it.

Except. 

Galo watches as some of the ribbons start to move. But wait… Isn’t the daemon dead? How are there still fluttering, twitching pieces of flaming fabric? 

Surely it’s just a trick of his imagination, right? He was just so thoroughly dazzled by her performance that he’s seeing things. That’s gotta be it.

Or is it?

Galo tilts his head in confusion at the sight just as an uneasy feeling settles deep in the pit of his burning firefighter’s soul. 

“Thyma!” he hears himself call out. 

That’s when it happens. 

Behind the form of the daemon they all thought was dead, a different, eerie face emerges. This one is bigger, grinning evilly as it rises from the ashes of its previous form like a malevolent phoenix. 

Thyma, who is still in the air, barely has time to react to this new revelation. It seems daemons acting like this is unusual, because she looks truly thrown for a loop. In her haste, she fumbles to create another weapon to dispatch it. She tries and tries as she loses altitude to summon anything from the light around her, but unfortunately, it seems that in her grand finale, she used up everything in her tank. 

Suddenly, one of the newly created ribbons reaches her form, still airborne, and wraps itself around her ankle and _pulls._

It feels like something does the same thing to Galo’s heart as it crashes in horror.

Rapidly descending, like a beautiful broken doll falling from the heavens, Thyma plummets towards the earth, screaming a horrific melody. 

It all happens in a matter of moments, but it feels like eons, lifetimes. 

**“THYMA!”** Galo shouts, consciously this time, as he realizes what’s going to happen but is too late and too slow to stop it.

**“SHIT!”** Gueira cries out. It seems he’s figured it out too. 

Galo can’t just stand idly by while someone is in trouble! That’s just not how he rolls! Fuck, he’s gotta do something, anything! He has mere seconds, so he’s gotta move fast.

Galo places a hand on the bench they were cowering behind and rights himself. He’s just about to vault the obstacle to approach the rapidly falling Thyma when something stops him. 

Galo tries to advance, god he fucking wants to, but something at his chest stops him dead in his tracks. What the hell? The daemon’s over there, what could be trying to-?

There, cutting across his broad chest, is a diamond-patterned blade, pink graduating into teal at the tip. He follows the sword back to its hilt and by extension, its owner. 

Lio Fotia stands there, eyes determined and trained ahead at the daemon, his right arm extended arm brandishing the blade, stopping Galo from moving any further. 

Galo pushes against the barrier, feeling the sharp edge dig and bite into his skin, but Lio won’t budge. He’s stronger than he looks. 

“OI!” Galo shouts. “Let me go!!!!”

That’s all he has time for before a horrifying sound is heard. 

Galo’s seen some terrible things. He’s a first responder, okay? He’s damn good at his job - of course he is - but sometimes things aren't pretty. Sometimes he’s too late or too slow and he’s forced to face the realization that he can’t save the person in front of him. It’s a horrible, gut-wrenching feeling. The first time it happened, he’d nearly thrown up, and vowed to not let it consume him. 

He has enough wherewithal to wince and shut his eyes from the scene developing in front of him, not wanting to see the result.

But after a brief moment, he resumes his struggle. Galo can’t stay still. Not when someone is dying in front of him. Hell fuckin’ no.

“LET ME GO!!!” Galo screeches again, pushing hard against the restraint. Lio barely seems to acknowledge his presence at all, his arm remaining steady and his head facing forward. “Lio!!!! I have to go!!! Thyma is-!”

“It’s too dangerous,” Lio responds through his teeth, still blatantly avoiding eye contact. “You would be killed.”

“LIO! ASSHOLE!” Gueira’s voice joins in. It’s shaking slightly, but is more irate than anything. “LET US GO!!!” He’s stuck too.

Galo tries to avert his eyes from the gruesome scene, but accidentally peeks and it just flares up his anger and guilt and everything else even more. He lifts his hands, pushing on the barrier with all his might, muscles screaming with the effort.

“LET ME THROUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“No,” Lio grits back, arm wavering with the strength of keeping Galo at bay.

“WHY THE HELL NOT???”

“IF I LET YOU GO, YOU’LL GO RUSHING IN!” Lio shouts back, unbridled anguish in his voice. 

The sudden outburst is enough to stop Galo for a brief moment. “What?”

“I DON’T WANT YOU TO DIE!” Lio’s chest is heaving under his jacket. “YOU CAN’T JUST-“

Kraybey’s voice comes through Galo’s head, cutting off the rest of Lio’s plea. 

_“Quick! One of you make a contract with me right now! You can help!”_

Right, if he just does that, then he’ll be ready to help and he can save Thyma and-

Lio’s face finally turns away from the carnage, as if he senses exactly what Galo is thinking.

Deep magenta eyes bore straight into him. 

Lio utters one single word.

_“_ _Don’t.”_

It hits hard, and Galo is still dealing with the intensity of it when Lio takes a running start and jumps into the fray. The daemon, now in its large ribbon-beast form, eagerly smiles at the newcomer as if he is delectable fresh meat to be consumed. However, Lio is all business. He doesn’t even react, just lets the daemon approach before seemingly disappearing completely. Galo briefly worries that he’s gone too, that they are truly defenseless. Maybe he does need to make that contract and-

Lio appears again out of nowhere and shoots the daemon in the back with a flurry of arrows, causing it to rear back in agony. Just as it does, Lio disappears again, only to suddenly be in front of the daemon’s twisted face. He grabs some of the flames burning around them, forms his sword, and slashes all the way down its body, bisecting it completely. 

When that happens, the daemon lets out one more deafening roar, and then the labyrinth around them starts to melt away. 

Lio lands confidently, brushing some of the singeing threads off of his regal shoulders. He holds himself highly for a brief moment before looking down at the sight in front of him. All of that blazing confidence melts away into quiet melancholy.

“It’s safe now,” Lio declares quietly, somberly. 

Galo takes that as his cue to tentatively step towards him. As he looks past Lio’s cape, he sees Thyma.

Moreso, what is left of her. 

“That’s horrible,” Gueira utters. 

“It can’t be…”

“That’s all that…”

“No…”

There is nothing but a pile of ash. 

“This is what fate awaits the Burnish,” Lio states, looking down at the remains and facing away from the other two. “When we die, we burn out completely. This is all that’s left.”

He pauses, letting the words sink in to the heavy atmosphere.

“N-no,” Galo feebly whimpers, childlike and unwilling to accept such a thing. He starts to feel the telltale sting of tears in the corners of his eyes.

“It is the truth. Be sure to think about that before you decide to join us.” 

He reaches down, sifting the remains through his gloved fingers. “May you rest in peace, Thyma Cado,” Lio murmurs. 

He rises, turning back to face Galo and Gueira. 

“As a Burnish, when you die, you’ll be nothing more than ash lost in a maze. No one will ever know what happened to you. You’ll be gone. Dust in the wind.”

“That... that can’t be,” Galo says, still staring in disbelief at the remains of what used to be his friend, what was supposed to be his Burnish partner. 

“Am I wrong?” Lio challenges the cat prodding up beside the horrific scene completely unfazed.

“He is correct,” Kraybey confirms. 

Fuck. That’s not how Galo wants to go! Well, he doesn’t want to go at all, but… The thought of leaving Mom, Burning Rescue, everyone without a trace… It’s too horrible to even fathom. 

He can’t just disappear like that. Even if he does save lives, the idea that that’s all that’s left absolutely terrifies him. It’s the last thing he ever wanted. 

(There was someone else he knew that ended up as nothing but ashes, and Galo vowed to never let that happen again.)

(He rubs at the teal ribbon on his wrist.)

“Nothing but dust in the wind,” Lio repeats softly.

“Dust in the wind,” Galo murmurs back, thumbing at the reminder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay OOF I'M SORRY!!! I know this was like really long and rough and PAINFUL and I wish I could say that things get better but...  
> Listen if you've seen madoka you know what I mean.  
> Just know that I promise that things things end happy and I'm not gonna torture characters for the sake of torture. I don't like hurting them either! Really!!!!
> 
> is it fucked up to make an "f in the chat boys" joke  
> oops too late  
> also thymaina rights. let's go lesbians!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Oh also! idk if I've mentioned but every character arc in cts is based in a greek myth. can you guess what thyma's was? (hint: flying too high and falling very hard)
> 
> The next chapter might be up next week to try and lessen this blow, esp if I'm productive this weekend. Otherwise, it'll be in two weeks. Thank you all for your incredible support on this story!!!
> 
> Also Galo finally got a playlist! Sorry it took so long boy!!!
> 
> Lio: [ design](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1264339475385090050) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5VR2kBUeDcKUV8xbkL2UGZ?si=uKUjQHa_RrOykBTKUZ6XDw)  
> Galo: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465576312369152) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0sNtLmDzN7dB5tEqFqIU7l?si=8Wg7RFO7SPehRXTKXZvA2g)  
> Gueira: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465651881062400) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6doiKEiNKOID9NLayErpKC?si=HbCakW2XTLKWOPtORYp0uw)  
> Meis: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465759079120898) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1JHJ0Q1ItSkbm01YThTMtI?si=RHolpgxLRma0h9ZmtkiORg)  
> Thyma: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465852272373760) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/32v0MxGX2hB5pYRNkYUIy8?si=AvZkfR4KRpGMTeB57SO0ZA)  
> Kraybey: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465957163495424)
> 
> Hit me up here or on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/ashesfadein2gay) or my [ curiouscat! ](https://curiouscat.me/jabbles)
> 
> I'm really enjoying writing this story and love talking about it, so feel free to reach out! Thanks for your support! See you soon! 💕


	7. Iudicium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why does seeing Lio walk away from him _hurt?_
> 
> Lio himself is similarly surprised by the outburst. He turns his head to look at Galo over his shoulder, giving him a look. It’s an expression Galo can’t say he’s ever seen Lio wear before. 
> 
> It’s almost remorseful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends!! Welcome back!!
> 
> _Iudicium:_ Decision, judgement, justice, point of view
> 
> This chapter is also a hefty 8k. There are also like, several pov jumps so I hope that it still makes sense. Also, there is more discussion and terminology of football, but I think even if you're unfamiliar, you can get the gist of it. At least, I hope as much.
> 
> I forgot to link these last time but my partner-in-crime [ purbs ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs) made a cts art thread [ here! ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1294818796306227201?s=20) Thank you for your amazing art and ideas!! 
> 
> also tw for parent death and alcohol
> 
> We've got a lot to get through, so I won't keep you any longer!  
> -Jabbles💕

**_~Sixteen Years Ago~_ **

This isn’t right.

All around him are unfamiliar sights and sounds. Smoke and fire threatening to snuff him out surround him as Galo sits up in his small bed.

What is going on? This isn’t a nightmare, is it? He grips his blanket tightly within his small hands, afraid to let go. Like if he drops this lifeline, this nightmare would be solidified to be very, very real.

But a part of him knows he can’t stay put. It hurts to breathe, and Galo understands that that’s not okay. He tries taking another shaky breath, and it’s like inhaling pins and needles. It hurts, it really hurts, and he hacks and coughs in response. Despite his fear, Galo swings his legs out of bed and steps onto his floor. It’s dark, the middle of the night, but the world is tinged in odd hues of orange.

The air feels thick and heavy, growing more so by the minute, so Galo urges his feet to move forward. It’s tentative at first, small steps across his creaking bedroom floor until he reaches the door. As he moves closer, the fear in his skittering heart ratchets up. He resolutely moves forward, because he needs to find his parents. He opens the door to a dark hallway full of smoke.

“Mom?” his raspy, feeble voice calls out. “Dad?”

Galo realizes his eyes are watering now, and he doesn’t know whether it’s from the smoke or from the sheer terror and helplessness he feels right now. It’s probably a combination of both. 

Just when it seems like he’s destined to spend eternity in this Hell, to drown in these flames, a figure appears in front of him. Galo tentatively reaches his hand out to this savior, still unsure of who or what it is, but anything is better than being alone right now. He’s so scared, so alone.

“Mom? Dad?” he whimpers again, hoping, _praying_ it’s one of them.

“Galo? Come here!” Galo takes the outstretched hand without thinking twice. He’s just grateful that someone found him. He’s quickly led down the hallway of his home, being pulled along by the adult. “Keep your head down, you’re doing great.”

Galo’s so dazed that he doesn’t realize that it’s his father’s voice until they’re in a different room. 

“Dad?” he says again, starting to actually feel hopeful. 

In the growing light of the flames, which almost seem to be dancing upon his father’s features and highlighting different hues, he sees a smile. It really is him.

“Dad!” Galo cries out, hugging him tightly. More tears run down his cheeks from a mixture of fear and relief and everything in between. 

“Yeah, I’ve got you,” he reassures his son. “Now go run on out to your mom, okay? I’ll be right behind you.” He points at the door across the living room. There are flames threatening to encroach the path out, but for now, the escape route is available.

But Galo doesn’t want to take it alone. 

He knows that he needs to get out of this fire, but he can’t do it by himself.

Galo grips his father’s wrist tighter. “I can’t! Dad you have to come too!!!”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he promises with a big smile and kiss to Galo’s forehead. “But right now, you need to go. Run, Galo. I love you, and I’ll see you real soon.”

Galo is still a crying mess as Galen Thymos wrenches himself from Galo’s vicegrip fingers. A brief ripping noise can be heard over the cacophonous fire raging through their home before Galo is shoved in the direction of the door.

Part of him doesn’t want to leave, but he knows this isn’t safe. Plus, he trusts Dad. Why would he lie?

So he runs through the flames, bursting through the exit and onto the lawn. 

He collapses on the ground outside, eventually finding his mother’s awaiting arms. 

When he’s safely wrapped up in her embrace, Galo turns back around to see his childhood home completely engulfed in an inferno.

He watches, waiting to see a person follow him out the door. 

No one ever comes.

Much, much later that night, while wrapped in a shock blanket, Galo finally uncurls his tightly clenched fingers for the first time.

Within them, there’s a teal strip of cloth, torn off of Galen’s coat. 

He dabs his wet, ashen face with it, and then ties it around his left wrist. 

There it remains. 

* * *

Galo remembers little of the funeral; he was far too lost in a daze of relatives giving their condolences and his own mind whirring too fast to truly understand. He vaguely remembers holding his mother’s hand while dressed in donated church clothes and blankly staring at people he didn’t know, but that’s about it.

Back then, even at age eight, Galo didn’t know how to cope with grief. Grief is a complex, ever-changing beast that no one really understands, let alone a mere child. Mostly, he just stood there, unable to really do anything other than stare at things and not react to them. He was a dazed, a zombie being ushered from place to place, counselor to counselor, fundraiser to fundraiser. 

Years later, his therapist told him that was his body’s trauma response, that in an attempt to protect him, it shut down all function. At the time, he wasn’t sure he believed them. 

Now, he sees what they meant.

As Galo leans on a strut underneath the stands of the Argo Middle School football stadium, he finds himself similarly frozen in place. He’s vaguely aware of his surroundings, of the tear stains on his face, but it’s foggy. 

“You _asshole_ , you can’t just-” Gueira’s distant voice makes its way through the mists. It’s angry, acidic, vitriolic. **“SAY SOMETHING DICKHEAD!!!!”**

Galo shakes his head, wiping at his wet face with the back of his hand. When he reopens his eyes, he finds himself no longer in front of a burning home or a pile of ash in a despondent labyrinth; he’s standing on pavement and sees an extremely pissed off Gueira. Slowly, he and other things come into focus as Galo starts to reacquaint himself with his surroundings.

Gueira isn’t alone, either. He’s currently gripping the collar of Lio Fotia’s jacket, up in his face and glaring daggers at the Burnish. 

Whereas Gueira looks angry enough to set fire himself, Lio looks remarkably stoic considering what just transpired.

Is he really that unaffected? Or is he just shutting down like Galo? It’s hard to tell.

“You could’ve done something,” Gueira growls in Lio’s face. 

“I _tried,”_ he asserts. “I did do something. I saved you two, didn’t I? If I hadn’t then-”

“Yeah, well,” he cuts Lio off. “If you hadn’t, maybe we coulda down something! Maybe Thyma would be here too!!!!!” Gueira raises his voice and it bounces off the pavement, echoing around the trio. “But you held us back!!!! I could’ve…! We could’ve…!”

“You could’ve what? Fought the daemon yourself? How?”

“WE COULDA DONE SOMETHING!!!!” Gueira shouts back. He gives Lio a hearty shove, finally letting go of his jacket. “Get out of here.” 

“Fine,” Lio replies surprisingly easily. Turning away, he starts walking away from Gueira and Galo like it’s not even that big of a deal.

But Lio can’t be this unaffected, can he? Is he really fine walking away from all this?

Galo finally has regained enough control over himself to speak, and impulsively, he does so. 

“Lio!” he finds himself calling out. Why did he do that? He’s monumentally pissed at Lio! Rightfully so! The Burnish kept him back from jumping in and saving someone from a fire - the very thing he is meant to do! Why would he call out to the man that all his current anger is directed at? 

Why does seeing Lio walk away from him _hurt?_

Lio himself is similarly surprised by the outburst. He turns his head to look at Galo over his shoulder, giving him a look. It’s an expression Galo can’t say he’s ever seen Lio wear before. 

It’s almost remorseful.

Galo’s confused. He’s fucking grieving, okay? A friend just _died._ Right in front of him. How the fuck is he supposed to process that?

Never mind the fact that there are people nearby, and they can’t turn this into a whole scene because how would they explain that? 

He doesn’t know what he’s feeling. He doesn’t know why he called out to Lio.

He’s simultaneously feeling too many emotions and nothing at all right now.

He needs time to think.

“Never mind,” he decides. “Go.” 

Lio has the audacity to appear almost hurt by the statement. 

* * *

“Gueira? Is that you? There you are! Where have you been?” an annoyedly high-pitched voice starts chastising him. Gueira tears his eyes away from the object of all his anger right now (the quickly disappearing form of one Lio Fotia) before moving his gaze towards the source of the sound.

He’s not sure what to expect – his brain feels like it’s in seventeen different places – but he finds a somewhat familiar face. It’s Jackie, one of the most informed and involved moms on the team. Gueira hastily takes off his glasses and scrubs at his face, trying to hide any evidence of the pain he’s feeling. He doesn’t want to be caught like this.

Jackie sniffs the air with a frown. “Why does it smell like smoke?” She sounds like a disappointed mom that just caught her kid with a cigarette. To be fair, that’s easier to explain than the truth.

That he just witnessed a murder.

“Nothing,” Gueira manages to reply, but his words sound more like croaking than a response.

Jackie scowls at him like she doesn’t believe the shitty excuse. “Well,” she says. “The team’s about to go on the field. Better hurry.” 

Shit. The game. 

How can he be expected to coach at a time like this? When one second, he feels as though his blood might boil through his skin and incinerate him, and the next, he’s so freezing cold that nothing could thaw his heart? 

He just saw someone **_FUCKING DIE._**

Someone he cared about. 

And he couldn’t do a goddamn thing about it. 

That’s not trivial.

That’s really, really, REALLY fucked up.

What good is he now? How can he coach a team when he can’t even save a friend?

Shouldn’t he just march himself away from all this? And do… something?

It’s so fucking hard to focus right now. 

Gueira finds himself walking in the direction of the mom, his feet seemingly moving of their own accord. Galo doesn’t follow him; he’s too caught up in his own trauma.

Part of him thinks he should go back and comfort his friend, that they should work through this together, but if he’s already traversing this way, he might as well go to the locker room.

Gueira just hopes he doesn’t look as fucked as he feels right now. It’s like the carpet has been ripped out from underneath him and he’s frantically flailing his arms trying to keep his balance, partly to stay afloat and not fall apart and partly out of pure spite. 

Because Lio Fotia stopped them from doing anything. Who the hell is he to decide that?

If he had joined in, if they all had, maybe Thyma would be here right now. 

The ire dwelling in Gueira’s gut seems to help right his mind and refocus him on the game.

Grief? Sadness? Pain? Complex emotions he can’t be bothered to unravel right now. Or maybe ever. 

If he thinks too hard about them, Gueira feels himself start to lose the brief balance he’s gained. If he let himself sink into them, he could drown, he thinks. He could collapse onto the AstroTurf in a pathetic heap and wallow in his own pity.

Would he recover?

Who knows?

Who cares?

It would be pathetic. He’d have to face the world as a result of his own failures. 

So he shoves those feelings deep, deep down within him until they’re locked with a key that is promptly thrown away, never to be seen again. 

But anger? 

Anger is something Gueira is well-acquainted with.

It settles into his chest with a fiery familiarity as he finally enters the locker room sporting a confident smirk and a spark of challenge in his gaze. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he announces to his team. They’re all geared up and about to do their huddle and team cheer before taking the field. As Gueira is noticed by the team, Jason’s expression behind his helmet grows from apprehensive to a confident, relieved smile. “Let’s kick their butts today, yeah?” 

**“YEAH!!!”** the Argo Golden Bears shout back. 

As they stroll towards their sidelines, Jason approaches him.

“Where were you? Mom was calling you a ton!” he asks his brother. 

_Saving all your lives and watching one end that I couldn’t do a single fucking thing to-_

“Had a friend thing,” he answers easily. “It’s good now. Sorry my phone was off!” He laughs (and hopes it doesn’t sound fake) and gives a good-natured shove at Jason’s padded shoulder. “Now go kill it out there, Jay!”

Jason pumps his fist in response. “You know I will, Gay!”

Gueira clenches his fists, grits his teeth, and pours every inch of his turmoil into his commands as his team proudly takes the field. Coach Phil shoots him a quick glare; he’s not happy about Gueira’s tardiness, and from the looks of it, they’re gonna have some sort of a chat later, but Gueira doesn’t care all that much. 

He grins, all teeth and fury, before belting out a triumphant **“GO BEARS!!!!”** with the team.

They kickoff, and the game commences. 

This, this he can do.

Fuck everyone else. Fuck it all.

He can do something here.

And he will. 

* * *

“Galo?” Aina’s voice calls out to him distantly. Galo blinks once, twice, before lifting himself up from the couch he’s sprawled out on to respond to his friend’s summons. 

“Yeah?” he replies, lacking his usual promptness and energy.

“Finally,” Aina groans. “I’ve called your name at least four times.” She strolls into the Burning Rescue lounge, taking a seat in a nearby armchair and throwing her legs over one of the arms. “Tired?” 

Galo yawns in response to the question. Yeah, he is tired. He’s a lot of other things too. 

“Yeah… Long day.” 

She tilts her head over the armrest, giving Galo an upside-down skeptical look. “What happened? I saw you like, twelve hours ago. Weren’t you just going grocery shopping?” She furrows her brows. “That’s not that tiring, is it?” 

“No,” Galo quickly answers, because he can’t lie, he’s never been able to. “Just… a lot of stuff.” 

Aina’s face softens. She seems to understand there’s a lot going on under the surface. “You know you can talk about it with me, right?” 

Galo knows he can, of course he can. Aina is one of his closest friends. He wants to tell her _everything,_ to start at the beginning of this horrifying experience and detail every tragedy he’s seen.

But he can't drag her into this. 

“I know,” he answers honestly. “Thank you, Aina, but I-”

“You’re not ready,” she finishes for him. “I get it.” 

“Am I that easy to read?” Galo half-chuckles, half-sighs. 

Aina shrugs before turning to sit somewhat more normally in her chair. “Not necessarily,” she says. “But today, I can tell. You’re dimmer than usual.” 

That’s an understatement. 

“Yeah…” is what he says instead. 

“Well…” Aina trails off, trying to see where else to lead this rarely lethargic Galo. It doesn’t help that it’s about three in the morning right now, deep in the midst of a long night shift. She kicks her legs back and forth in the air, looking at Galo sprawled across the couch like a broken starfish. 

“Oh, and thanks,” she adds. “For helping me out earlier. With Thyma.”

Galo hasn’t cried since it happened.

Since he left that godforsaken stadium with sticky leftover tears on his cheeks and an ache in his heart. He didn’t even bother to stay around for the game, because being around the area, even if it did take place in a labyrinth, just made him feel nauseous.

So Galo just left and went to work. 

He’s tried to keep himself busy, occupied. He’s kept himself from shutting his eyes, because if he does, he sees her fall. When he got into work, he put on the best fake smile and set about helping Lucia in the lab. However, one by one, people took their sleep shifts, and that left Galo and Aina alone in the lounge.

He hasn’t cried since it happened. 

But Aina casually dropping her name, chipper as can be, changes that. 

A pitiful hiccup escapes his lips, small but not small enough to hide, and water spills from the corner of Galo’s eye and down his cheek. 

He quickly shoves his face into the scratchy cushion in an attempt to stifle any more, but that doesn’t muffle the shuddering half-sob he lets out. 

“Galo...?” Aina’s voice is soft, concerned now. She knows that this is 100% not normal Galo Thymos behavior. Before, he could write it off as exhaustion, he’s just tired, just bored, don’t worry about it. 

But this? 

He’s doing all he can to stop the floodgates from opening up. Galo’s face heats with the effort of holding tears at bay mixed with shame and guilt that he couldn’t do anything mixed with anger that Lio Fotia stopped him in his tracks before he could. 

Lio Fotia. 

Thinking of him sends Galo into further turmoil, the rage mixing with his already muddled heart. 

(Yet, at the same time, didn't he save them? Or did he just say that as an excuse as they all watched Thyma die?) 

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you like this…” Aina utters, taking him out of the internal questioning.

She’s right, though. Galo’s a complete and utter mess. There’s no hiding it anymore. 

“Yep,” is what he manages to say, throwing a hefty arm over his eyes in some vain attempt to hide his state.

There’s a brief silence (except for Galo’s shuddering breaths) before Aina continues.

“How can I help?” she offers. 

_Bring Thyma back._

_Take me back before all this happened._

_Find a way to stop these horrific daemons from even existing_. 

Galo sniffles loudly, wiping his face of the excess snot. 

“A hug?” he decides. Aina’s hugs are very good, to be fair. Strong, warm, safe, a solid weight that will anchor him here. Hearing the request, Aina half-smiles and nods understandingly. Galo finally, finally rises from the couch into a sitting position as she slides in next to him. 

“That I can do.”

Galo leans into her presence as her arms wrap around his form. 

He might be getting her Burning Rescue jacket wet with the silent sobs he’s letting out, but she doesn't mention it, just soothes him and lets him get it out without any more pestering questions. 

When he finally feels like his chest isn’t threatening to shatter into a million pieces, Galo gives a quiet, simple, “Thanks.” 

“Of course,” Aina answers back, not breaking the hug. “Need anything else?” 

“Some water maybe? My head kinda hurts…” He’s certainly lost some hydration from the waterfalls trekking down his cheeks. Never mind the absolute fucking mess his brain is still in. 

“Why don’t you get some water and we’ll put on a movie for a while?” Aina says.

Galo nods into her shoulder. Getting up and doing something would help. He begins extricating himself from the hold, standing up for the first time in hours and stretching his sore limbs out. As he leaves Aina in the lounge to head for the kitchenette, he turns around and gives a small pause.

“It’s hard y’know?” he speaks aloud.

“What is?” 

“Realizing that you really can’t save everyone, no matter how much you want to.” 

Aina purses her lips together, wide eyes blinking once. Her expression then morphs into understanding with a drop of melancholy. 

“It is,” she agrees wholeheartedly. “It really is.” 

Galo downs about three glasses of water before he feels somewhat normal, and when he returns to the lounge, Aina’s got the TV prepped for a nice animated movie. They squeeze together on the couch, share a blanket, and despite Galo not thinking it possible, he eventually nods off. 

He wakes up a couple hours later with Aina is no longer next to him and hearing the sounds of his other teammates milling about. The message of “Do Not Disturb Galo” must’ve been shared around the station, because otherwise, Lucia would’ve woken him up by jumping literally on top of him or by Remi loudly proclaiming he needs to “get to work”.

Galo works out a kink in his shoulder, downs the glass of water left for him, and decides that he’s still not quite ready to face everyone. If word’s gotten out about his state - and Galo’s pretty sure it has - then there are gonna have to be conversations about feelings and what happened and yeah.

He doesn’t want that. 

Instead, Galo sneaks away from everyone, tiptoeing with as much stealth as he can muster - which is still very little, honestly - into the stairwell. Even if he was heard, no one appears to be following him at the very least. Burning Rescue understands that he needs space.

They’re a good team.

He’ll have to thank them for their kindness later.

Galo meticulously climbs flights of stairs until he reaches the thick metal maintenance door to the roof. With a hefty shove and a loud creak, it swings open to the early morning air. 

It’s just about dawn; most of Promepolis is still deep in slumber. There are a few cars that pass by trying to beat the morning traffic rush, but mostly, the air is calm. It’s a little chilly, but that’s never bothered Galo and his blazing, always burning firefighter’s soul. 

(And he’d never admit it aloud if it did) 

The sky is a gradient of pale lavenders spilling into pale pinks in the east. As Galo walks onto the roof of Station 3, gazing over the sprawling metropolis that he’s responsible for, he wonders.

How many daemons are lurking out there this very moment? Can he do anything about that? How many people are suffering right now because of the despair of a daemon luring them into a horrific labyrinth?

Is he really powerless about all of this?

Galo tilts his head up at the dawning sky hoping to find answers, but instead only finds dimming stars and wispy clouds. The sun continues its rise, a blazing fire in its own right, casting a warm orange glow over the land as it raises inch by painstaking inch. 

It rises, providing such warmth, such light, such comfort in its presence, that if it were suddenly gone, plucked from the sky, how would the world continue on as if nothing has happened? Could it? Is it right to do so? 

A rustle behind him catches his attention, and Galo turns in the direction of the source. He’s expecting one of his Burning Rescue team or maybe Kraybey, here to ask for another contract or something, but to his surprise, it’s neither. 

It’s Lio. 

He’s not in his Burnish form; he’s standing, hands in the pockets of a plain black jacket. The warm morning light glazes over his soft features and accents the crystalline shine in his eyes. 

The look is remarkably different. Before, he was determined, vigilant, never wavering a single bit.

Now he looks… apologetic.

Usually, Lio carries this magnificent power with him like he could never be broken, like nothing could ever strike him down. He moves with such poise, such calculated steps and planned motions. He always seems to be on top of the moment, ready and capable to face whatever obstacle is thrown his way.

But in the dawn of this new day, the first without the light of Thyma Cado in it, he looks surprisingly vulnerable. 

He looks _human._

“Hey,” Lio says, his voice breaking their tenuous silence. 

Despite the lack of a confrontational stance, despite his openness and rare vulnerability, Galo finds he’s actually still quite upset at the man in front of him. In a way, he blames Lio for Thyma’s death. 

But he also blames himself. 

Deep down, he knows they’re both at fault, and the real culprit is that damned daemon. He knows that’s where his anger should be directed.

But right now, he’s still processing everything and the sight of Lio sets him off again. He doesn’t mean for it to, but the grief within him fades into guilt and from there, resentment.

“Hey,” he replies back, but not amicably. He’s almost standoffish, crossing his arms and glaring at the Burnish. It’s very nearly a role reversal of their very first meeting in that alleyway. “What do you want?” 

Lio frowns, taken aback by such an uncharacteristically cold welcome. “I wanted to…”

“To what?” Galo challenges before he can finish.

“To make sure you were alright,” Lio finishes. His voice almost is meek, lacking its usual strength. 

“Yep,” Galo confidently lies. “I am.”

“Well…” Lio trails off, almost unsure of himself. For someone who is usually so confident, so calculated, it’s a rare look. “That’s good.”

“But Thyma isn’t.” Galo hadn’t meant for the words to slip. They’re almost spit out, full of acid and anguish and settle heavily in the morning air, leaving uneasy silence in their wake.

He’s not exactly angry at Lio specifically. Really, he’s not.

He’s just pissed off at several factors right now, and to be fair, Lio is one of them. There are a lot of others he’s pissed off at (himself being number one) but Lio is here in front of him and maybe if he follows this train of thought, if he lets this out, he’ll feel better. Maybe if he just vocalizes all of this, throws it Lio’s way, it’ll leave him alone.

Galo doubts it’ll work, deep down he knows this isn’t the way to cope, but the words are out before he can think them through completely.

“No thanks to you,” he tacks on.

Lio flinches, and any softness remaining in his demeanor is promptly thrown to the wayside. He resumes his declarative stance, the other side of him being just a brief glance behind the curtain before it is pulled tightly shut once more. 

“I did what I had to,” Lio states resolutely. “If I hadn’t stopped you and Gueira-”

“THEN MAYBE SHE’D STILL BE ALIVE!” Galo fires back. 

“You would be dead,” Lio finishes, blatantly ignoring Galo’s outburst. “You wouldn’t be here right now.”

“So what?” Galo scoffs.

Lio seems dumbfounded at the response. “What do you mean so what?” 

“I mean _‘So What?’_ ” Galo reiterates. “Me or her? That’s the choice?” 

Lio sighs, conflicted. “Unfortunately, it was. It was the only thing I could do.”

“And you chose _me?”_ Galo jabs a thumb at himself in disbelief. Thyma is a Burnish, one who could save countless lives. Sure, Galo is important in his own right, working for Burning Rescue, but Thyma saved those who had no idea they were even in trouble! Surely, that’s more valuable then-

“I’d choose you every time.” 

Galo’s stopped in his tracks by the statement, completely blown away by the straightforward delivery. Even Lio seems surprised by his words, taking a startled step back and shaking his head once as if to reorient himself. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Lio says casually, ignoring what just transpired and playing it off. He turns his gaze off Galo and towards the sunrise. “As long as you know that that’s the fate that awaits a Burnish, then I’ve done my job.”

“I get it,” Galo answers. “I really do. But that doesn't mean I’m happy about it. What if I could’ve saved her? I mean. I- I did nothing!” He’s rolling now, lets the words fall out without stopping them. “Not a single fuckin’ thing! BECAUSE OF YOU! AND! AND NOW-!”

“Galo.” Lio’s voice is gentler now, a pained expression on his face. He almost looks like he wants to reach out and comfort Galo. “I’m sorry.” 

“Just go.” Galo shoves his face in his hands, too guilt-ridden to make any more eye contact. “Just go.” 

“Sorry,” Lio repeats once more. 

When Galo looks up, he’s gone. 

* * *

After a stunning Argo Golden Bears victory, Gueira should be riding high. 

But he can’t.

For many reasons. 

#1, Jason wasn’t at the helm. Sure, he played some, but not as much as he should’ve. He did great, caught some passes, but it’s only barely scratching the surface of what Gueira knows his brother can do.

#2, he just watched someone fucking _die_. Right in front of him, and without warning or preamble. 

#3, he couldn’t do a single thing about 1 & 2\. 

He lets his rage at #3 boil under the surface, using it to loudly cheer as the team toasts their victory on this otherwise normal Friday evening. 

(It’s anything but normal. Gueira doesn’t even know what normal is anymore.)

Gueira hugs his mom and gives Jason a solid hair ruffle in celebration. Dad smiles and hugs him as well, the entire Valente family back together and cheering the victory. 

He should be happy. He should be goddamn elated, over the fucking moon. He should take them up on their offer to come back for dinner. 

But he can’t.

Gueira declines, feigning some excuse about errands he has to run. His dad might be able to read between the lines that there’s more going on than Gueira’s letting on, but Jason’s beaming face is enough to deter any further questioning. All he gets is an eyebrow raise of _“I will let this one slide, but not again.”_

Gueira silently thanks him. 

When he finally collapses into the driver’s seat of his Honda, it takes every ounce of his willpower to not scream and punch something. He’s gotta get home first. Maybe it’s slightly unsafe to drive in such a state of pure emotional turmoil, but what other choice does he have? 

Gueira, by some miracle, doesn’t crash into anything during his commute. The only thing crashing is his adrenaline high of winning the game, which honestly was the only thing keeping him afloat since everything happened. He leans into the anger roiling in his soul, lets it consume him until it’s all he can feel, pushing everything else away. 

But without the roar of the crowd surrounding him, without the energy of the Golden Bears behind him, he’s left with a silent apartment. Too silent, until it’s almost suffocating.

The cracked drywall of his entryway stares back at him, almost egging him on, taunting him.

He gives in and cracks it further, eats some leftovers out of his fridge, and screams into his pillow until he passes out. 

The next morning, Gueira comes to with a splitting headache and overwhelming feeling of ick. Ick at himself, ick at Lio Fotia, ick at the world in general. He debates texting Galo to make sure that he’s handling this okay, but Gueira’s really not in the mood to talk to anyone right now. He doesn’t have a shift today, thank god, but he does have shit he needs to get done, like his laundry.

Actually, you know what? Scratch that, nah, he can’t be bothered to do anything. He lays in bed watching Netflix until his fingers are so twitchy that he has to get out the pent-up energy _somehow._

So he does what he normally does when he’s too antsy: he goes for a walk. Grabbing his black leather jacket, Gueira begins wandering Promepolis. The sun is low in the sky by the time he realizes that he’s heading a direction towards something. How long has he been out? Minutes? Hours? His feet feel numb, but he doesn’t know if that's from overuse or from his own numbness to the world around him. People pass him on the street, busy with their own problems and lives, uncaring that around any street corner could be danger. 

Or death. 

And with Thyma gone, who is stopping daemons from overrunning the place? Lio made it very clear he doesn’t care about the lives of others when he left Thyma to die. 

And Meis is… complicated. 

Gueira and him haven’t spoken since their altercation on the street, and Gueira’s been okay with that since.

But.

But he does want an opinion about what transpired. Does Meis even know? Does he even care?

Surely he does, right? 

Even though a part of Gueira knows it’s stupid, that he shouldn’t, he can’t stop himself before asking in his mind:

_“Where is Meis?”_

Kraybey must grant the request, because fifteen minutes later, he’s strolling into a bar and sliding onto a stool at the counter. 

Meis only barely acknowledges his presence, swirling the drink he’s nursing in hand. 

They're at the edge of the bar, away from the few patrons that are around. That’s good – they can at least have somewhat of a private conversation. He flags down the bartender for a drink and once he’s got it, breaks the silence.

“Hey,” Gueira starts the conversation, albeit a bit forcefully. It’s still weird to even be talking to someone he’d written out of his life years ago, let alone about magical beings and daemons and all that shit. They still haven’t even addressed their own issues, too caught up in Burnish and the like.

“Hey,” Meis answers back, taking a sip of his whiskey. 

A silence worms its way between them before Gueira breaks it again. 

“Did you hear what-?”

“Yeah.” 

“Oh.” He figured as much. Burnish seem to keep tabs on one another, so it’s not surprising that Meis knows. How much he knows matters, though. Gueira looks down into his beer. “Then you know I was there?” 

“I heard.” Meis clicks his tongue, taking a long breath. “You shouldn’a been there to begin with.” 

Again with the “should’s” and “shouldn’t’s” like Meis thinks he knows what’s good for him. Why does he think he can dictate Gueira’s life as if he didn’t choose to walk out of it five years ago?”

“What was I supposed to do then, huh?” Gueira challenges. “Let the daemon fester until it destroyed the entire stadium? With my family in it?” 

“Lio or I could’ve handled it,” he brushes him off, hiding most of his expression under his curtain of midnight hair. “You should stay out.”

“Excuse me?” Gueira balks. “I tried to help, you know. I wanted to. And you know what Lio did?” 

“I have an idea.”

“He stopped me! And Galo! Held us back while Thyma… while she…” He grits his teeth. “We coulda done somethin’! I’m sure of it! And Lio didn’t let us.”

Gueira doesn’t know if he’s just angrily venting or if he’s looking for validation. Probably both. 

Meis finally turns to meet Gueira’s agitated gaze. 

“I don’t know why you’re so upset,” he says coolly. "Burnish aren’t meant to last.”

“What?”

“Yes,” Meis continues. “In fact, I think he did the right thing.”

Gueira balks in shock. He was not expecting _this._ “Surely you don’t agree with him? He’s done nothing but-!”

“Keep you two from making a mistake you’ll regret,” Meis finishes, eyes cold daggers.

“Who are you to talk about mistakes and regrets?” Gueira throws back. _“You’re_ the one who left without a fuckin’ trace, remember? I was-!” 

**“Shh!”** Meis harshly shushes him, keeping his voice from raising further. “I don’t doubt that I’ve made mistakes…” He takes another sip. “I made a whole fuckin’ lot of them, Gueira. More than you know. And that’s why I won’t let you follow in my bloody footsteps.”

“Hey fuck off, I” - he jabs a thumb at his chest - “can make whatever mistakes I want.” He takes a big angry swig of his drink. “I came here to talk to you because I honestly believed that you’d agree with me. I thought you’d tell me that Lio was in the wrong. But somehow… Somehow, after all these years, you sided with _him_ over me. You’ve changed.” 

The last sentence is almost a snarl, a bitter declaration full of furor.

“I have. And I’m siding with Lio because he _did_ do the right thing,” Meis explains, a little caught off guard by Gueira’s intensity but not letting it affect him too much. “You were in danger! When are you gonna get that this ain’t all it’s cracked up to be? Y’all aren’t gonna survive what this world has in store. I mean-”

Gueira holds a hand up and chugs the rest of his beer. “I don’t wanna hear it, Meis. I don’t wanna hear whatever bullshit you think is best for me. I’m sick of your ‘should’s.’ I’m sick of ‘em.” Gueira abruptly stands up. “I’m gonna save a thousand more people than you or Lio, just sit back and fucking watch.” 

He storms off, leaving a bewildered Meis behind him. He registers a call out to him by name, but he ignores it as he takes off into the night. 

Fuck what he said, fuck what they all said, Gueira isn’t gonna be powerless anymore. 

He won’t let a couple of Burnish who don’t care about human fucking lives control him. 

He’ll be better than all of them. 

When Sunday rolls around, Gueira feels more invigorated and pumped up than he ever has. This is the game where Jason gets to start at QB. He shoves out thoughts of Meis and Lio and of broken bodies fallen before daemons and instead focuses on the game against the Stags. Once and for all, he’s gonna show all the people that said Jason can’t do it, that he’s just not strong enough, what they’ve been missing.

Gueira drives to the stadium grinning like a maniac, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. His music in the car is blasting, the bass thumping through him. It drowns out all thoughts of Burnish bullshit and leaves him single-minded on one thing: football.

Fuck all that Burnish shit, this is something he can do, something he knows Jason can do, and he’d ready to shove it in all their faces. He’s riding a high that he’s not even sure how he got, and his head still kinda hurts from the drinks he drowned in last night, but who cares? 

Today’s the day. 

Gueira makes it to the stadium before everyone else, and when he does, instead of going to the locker room first, he makes a slight detour. He’s not even sure why he’s doing it, almost urging his feet to not take him to that fateful place. Hell, he just spent an entire car ride ridding himself of all of these thoughts and now he’s just gonna bring them all back?

He’s just too sentimental.

He walks over until he sees it. In front of a concrete strut holding up the bleachers is a single bundle of blue flowers. 

It seems he’s not the only one who is still grieving.

Gueira looks up at the structure, plain and unassuming if not for the slight cracks in the foundation. 

It’s a lot like him, he surmises. 

Important, supporting those around him, and on the outside, a pillar of strength. But look closer, take a chance to look deeper, and you see the minute cracks spidering out from an intrusion embedded in it. Neither are the same as they were before Friday afternoon. 

And both, when it came down to it, were powerless to stop the destruction unfolding around them.

Gueira refuses to let it happen again. He won’t allow himself to crumble and fall. No, he’ll fill these holes in with newfound purpose and become the strongest fucking pillar in this whole stadium. No matter what anyone says. 

He’ll become self-healing concrete, keep fixing the cracks until no one can do anything but be awed by the incredible tenacity of one Gueira Valente. 

Gueira rubs his eye with the back of his hand, noting the wetness upon it. Huh, when did that happen?

“I’m sorry Thyma,” he offers the makeshift shrine. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.” 

The only response is a brief whistle of wind. 

“But it'll never happen again. I swear it.”

He brushes his calloused fingers along the small cracks in the structure. He’s not usually a sentimental one, but he’s feeling it today. Too many memories that are still fresh, pain that still lingers even if he’s doing his best to ignore it. 

“You will not be forgotten, Thyma Cado,” he declares. “And neither will I.” 

Gueira stays a few minutes more, admiring the scene in silence. A heavy weight threatens to sink its way into his heart, but he shakes it off when he remembers what today is, what he needs to do. 

After a respectable amount of time, Gueira stands up and stretches towards the sky. The sun is out, but blocked by a cloud right now. 

He gives a melancholy sigh at the sight, then leaves to go to the locker room. 

When the boys arrive, they’re chatty and excited as ever, filing into the locker room with the unending bounding energy only middle school boys have. Gueira gives them all the same big grin, hyping them up as they get dressed. Gueira exits the locker room to find Coach Phil on the sidelines. 

“So…?” Gueira croons with a huge smirk on his face. 

“I know,” Phil sighs. “I promised.” A pencil is wagged in his face. “But you were late Friday.”

Gueira frowns. “I was, but there’s a good reason for that.” 

“And?” he gestures expectantly for Gueira to continue. 

“I had an important friend thing I couldn’t get out of,” Gueira tries to explain. 

“Jackie told me you were smoking under the bleachers,” Phil replies back, still looking over his playbook and paying Gueira little mind. 

“I wasn’t! She misunderstood! I-! It only smelled like smoke cause-” Gueira fumbles for a way out of this and is coming up incredibly fucking empty. 

Phil finally looks up from the clipboard, giving Gueira a Look. “Don’t let it happen again.” 

Gueira bows his head. “Yes, Coach.” 

“Jason starts today,” he tells him, a small smile returning to the coach’s face. “He deserves it.” 

“Really?” Gueira’s face returns to hopefulness.

Coach nods.

“Yeah!” he cheers, pumping his fist in the air. 

He scampers back inside to find his brother still putting his pads on. 

“Hey Jay, guess what I just found out?”

Jason thinks for a moment. “That I have a girlfriend?” 

“No that you- WAIT. _Do you?????”_

Jason laughs. “No, but some guys on the team seem to think I do. She’s cool, but we’re just friends, I swear.” 

“Jay, why haven’t I heard about this? I thought we were close!” Gueira feigns hurt. 

Jason shrugs. “Not like you tell me who you’re dating, Gay.” 

Gueira accepts that. “Fair enough. But do you wanna hear what I was going to tell you or not?”

“I do!”

“Hm,” Gueira ponders teasingly. “Not sure I should since my own brother fucked with me so cruelly. I mean…”

“C’mon!”

“Okay fine!” he relents, too giddy to hide the information anyway. “You are starting QB today!” 

Jason’s face breaks into the most awestruck expression he’s ever seen his brother make. It’s almost like he can’t believe it, that it’s too good to be true. 

“You’re serious?” he asks, still shocked. 

“Pulled some strings with Coach, and yep!” He gives Jason a hearty shove in the shoulder. “I know you’re gonna kill it out there!” 

“I’ve been waiting so long…” his brother murmurs. If he didn’t know any better, Gueira would admit that there are shining tears in his eyes. Both of them, actually. “I won’t let you down! I won’t let the team down!” 

Jason then lunges forward and engulfs Gueira in a huge hug, squeezing the ever-living fuck outta him. 

“Jay... gotta breathe...” 

“Yeah, sorry.” He pulls back and unashamedly wipes his eye. “I’m just so fucking pumped!” 

Gueira’s so proud, so elated for this moment, that he doesn’t even comment about the swear. 

The Golden Bears file onto the field, and Jason absolutely beams with pride when it is announced that he will be starting at quarterback for this game. Most of the team supports the decision, too. There are a few jealous glares from those who would prefer to have the position, but for the most part, he’s met with acceptance. 

They play the national anthem and then kick off. Argo is starting on offense, so when they run the ball back to the 25-yard line, that’s where they pick up. 

Jason crouches behind the center, calling out the play (a simple crossing route from what Gueira can guess) and the ball is hiked to him. There’s a look of uncertainty, as if he never thought he’d truly get to this point, until he spots his target and throws the pass. 

It’s a bit overthrown, so they reset for the next down. They go for a similar play this time, and Jason appears a little more confident. He has to move to find the opening, letting his offensive line protect him, and when the opportunity presents itself…. **BAM!**

Jason throws a perfect spiral, and the football sails through the air. 

The receiver reaches for it, bobbles it once, and then it’s caught. They run and run and make it almost to the other end of the field before one of the Stags tackles him. 

It takes just two more plays before Jason runs it in for a touchdown. 

When he comes off the field, he’s smiling larger than Gueira’s ever seen in his life. He gives the biggest grin and fist bump in response. Jason’s face is like that of Christmas morning, of pure wonder, awe, and disbelief at how magical and wonderful things can turn out. 

The defense puts up a good fight and holds the Stags to a field goal. When the Golden Bear offense takes the field again, it’s still with Jason Valente at the helm. He executes a near flawless QB sneak, and they get another first down. 

The first worry comes when one of the opposing defenders breaks the line, but Jason’s quick enough on his feet that he gets the ball out and away before being tackled. He gets up, dusts off his pads, and takes a deep breath. He’s strong enough mentally to not like something like that mess with him.

They make their way down the field, almost to the opposing end zone, with Jason Valente executing like Gueira always knew he could. 

He should've known it wouldn’t last. 

“Omaha!” Jason’s voice echoes as they hike the ball. Jason has it in his hands as he scans the field for an open person, but they’re all guarded. Jason’s so focused, so zoned in on his receivers, that he doesn’t see the defender that breaks the line and is coming towards. Gueira instinctively opens his mouth to warn him, even though he knows that it’s futile, but it’s too late. The defender grabs Jason and tackles him to the ground hard. 

Quarterback sack. 

Not as common in middle school games, but they still happen. The defender that tackled him gets off Jason, and Gueira shakes his head. They’ll get it back, it’s only a minor setback. 

Except. 

Except Jason isn’t getting up. Actually, wait. Why isn’t he? Come on, Jay!

Gueira’s heart drops. What happened? He’s about to run onto the field when slowly, with heaving breaths, Jay rises from where he went down. But he looks dazed, worse for wear, definitely not the confident team leader he was just moments ago. 

Coach quickly calls a timeout. 

“Valente!” he says to their new quarterback with concern. “How are you?” 

“I-” Jason wheezes hard. “I-” Gueira knows what this is. Shit, this is really happening! He frantically rummages around his bag before pulling out his inhaler, which Jason greedily takes. After a few puffs, he can take deep breaths again.

“Sit out,” Coach says, a hand on his shoulder. “You need to rest.” 

Jason reluctantly takes the advice, and he’s dejected about this situation. 

While the game chugs on without him, Jason angrily looks at his hands and the inhaler in them as if it has personally wronged him. In a way, it has. His laundry list of conditions keeping him from achieving what he should.

“It sucks,” Jason whimpers, pulling his arms tightly around himself. “Why can’t I play like I want to? Why am I cursed to-?” 

“Hey,” Gueira offers, pulling him into a tight hug. “This was only our first test, there will be more and-”

“Will there?” Jason looks up at him with a face full of held back tears. “Or should I just give up? Nothing can change what I am. I’m doomed. Broken. Can’t be fixed.” 

“Jay…”

**_“WHY???”_** Jason sobs and doubles over on the bench, crying into his lap. It stabs Gueira in the chest deep, each sob another wound to his already weakened heart. He bites his lip, letting the sting of blood take away at least a bit of the anguish.

After a few moments of wallowing, Gueira looks up at the setting afternoon sun finally breaking free from the clouds. It is setting over the west end of the field, almost perfectly silhouetted between the uprights, turning them a beautiful shade of gold.

And there, sitting on that goalpost is a cat, grinning intently at him. 

“I can’t do anything,” Jason whimpers.

“Yes you can. Yes you can. I promise. _You can.”_ Gueira stands up and looks at the being backlit by the setting sun, and nods. 

After the game, when everyone is all but gone, Gueira steps onto midfield.

A bright crimson light envelops the stadium, leaving a new hero in its wake.

He won’t be powerless ever again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUEIRA DID IT!!!! 😲 OH SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Next chapter we start to see the repercussion of this decision. There will be many. Oh Lio Fotia, we're really in it now...
> 
> That chapter should be up in two weeks! I've been sticking to this biweekly update schedule to keep myself from stressing out too bad, so I'm gonna keep it. 
> 
> Lio: [ design](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1264339475385090050) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5VR2kBUeDcKUV8xbkL2UGZ?si=uKUjQHa_RrOykBTKUZ6XDw)  
> Galo: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465576312369152) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0sNtLmDzN7dB5tEqFqIU7l?si=8Wg7RFO7SPehRXTKXZvA2g)  
> Gueira: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465651881062400) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6doiKEiNKOID9NLayErpKC?si=HbCakW2XTLKWOPtORYp0uw)  
> Meis: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465759079120898) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1JHJ0Q1ItSkbm01YThTMtI?si=RHolpgxLRma0h9ZmtkiORg)  
> Thyma: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465852272373760) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/32v0MxGX2hB5pYRNkYUIy8?si=AvZkfR4KRpGMTeB57SO0ZA)  
> Kraybey: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465957163495424)
> 
> Hit me up here or on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/ashesfadein2gay) or my [ curiouscat! ](https://curiouscat.me/jabbles)
> 
> Thanks for your all support! I really appreciate all of you!!!  
> See you soon! 💕


	8. Fenestrae Comminutae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah,” Gueira huffs with an arrogant stomp of his flaming boot. “So go away and find your own daemons. I’m doin’ just fine over here”
> 
> “Are you?” Meis challenges back. “Y’all seem pretty outta your element.” 
> 
> “So what if I don’t know what I’m doing? I’ll learn. I’ll learn and become the best damn daemon slayer Promepolis has ever seen!” he declares. 
> 
> “You shouldn’t-”
> 
> “Shouldn't what, Meis? Shouldn’t fight daemons? Then what was all this for, then, huh?” Gueira gestures around himself. “I have the power now, so I might as well use it, right? Rather than just run away or leave everyone to fend for themselves?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!!
> 
> Yes, I'm a few days late with this update. I had a crazy week at work (I worked almost 50 hours) so I was pretty swamped. Thank you for your patience!!! 
> 
> _Fenestrae Comminutae:_ Shattered Windows
> 
> Once again this chapter is over 8k and features a bunch of pov switches, so I hope it all makes sense. We are getting to real plot stuff now!! 
> 
> -Jabbles💕

Normalcy isn’t something that Galo was ever that accustomed to, to be honest. His life has never really taken the same path as those around him. Ever since that fateful night at eight years old, he was cast off the beaten path, thrown onto a winding trail that no one’s tread before.

But now, he realizes that even if it was difficult, even if it was by no means a mundane, ordinary life, it was _his_ normal. A normal filled with loud sirens and massive fires and adrenaline spikes and the off days spent with family and friends.

It was _his_ normal. 

And it’s all been obliterated now. 

Whatever semblance of normalcy Galo used to have is nothing more than a shattered pipe dream at this point. 

There are moments where he can almost pretend it’s back, that old hectic routine. Where he can shut off all those wandering thoughts and guilt eating at his core and anxiety coursing through his veins. Where he can forget that his entire worldview hasn’t been irreversibly altered. 

He wakes up on a Monday morning to his phone alarm ringing, lets Matoi out, and showers quickly to start his day. Nothing out of the ordinary. When Galo exits his bedroom after getting dressed in his casual clothes (he’s not on shift today), his mom is sipping coffee at the kitchen table and flashes a smile at him. He gives a genuine one in return and sits down to eat his own breakfast. 

It almost feels like everything is fine. 

Almost.

The façade is hastily cast aside when Galo glances up at the windowsill to see eyes screwed shut, a curling, mischievous smile, and a swishing tail. 

_“Given it more thought, Galo Thymos?”_ the voice prods his mind. 

“No,” Galo growls under his breath. 

Maria looks up from her phone with a quizzical expression, hearing the sudden reaction.

_“Well, you are alright for now, since G-”_

“What's up, Galo?” she asks, cutting off the telepathic remarks. 

Galo can’t very well tell her what's going on, so he shrugs it off. “Nothin’, don’t worry.” 

The response he gets is a look that reads _“I don’t buy it.”_ It sucks, because Galo’s always been open with his mom. He has to, because all they have is each other, so if he didn’t tell her, who would he tell? They’ve gone through far too much together to keep things from one another. They’re close by nature, confiding in each other over almost everything, from crushes to failures and everything in between. 

So for Galo to remain so incredibly tight-lipped about something that is clearly eating him from the inside out is unusual at best. 

Maria mulls over her coffee, stirring it and giving Galo a pointed look. She clearly knows he’s hiding something and that he’s not divulging it, but despite her motherly instincts seeing right through him, she seems to allow him this reprieve. Maybe it’s because it’s early on a Monday morning, or maybe it’s because Maria just understand that Galo’s not ready to divulge all that has happened to him recently.

He’s not sure if he’ll ever be ready. Burdening her with stories of magic and flaming daemons is too farfetched, and she might blow him off. He _can’t_ tell her, no matter how much he wants to.

It’s obvious that Maria wants to talk through whatever is bothering him, as is normal for moms to want to do, so Galo expects some prying later. He’s not out of this yet.

But he’s bought some time, at least.

“Got any plans today?” she asks, changing to subject to Galo’s relief. 

“Going to the grocery store since I uh… forgot last week.” 

(More like left the cart abandoned in the middle of the cereal aisle. He had an emergency to tend to.)

Galo continues past the lie (which he’s not entirely sure he got away with) as best he can. “And I’m hanging out with Gueira this afternoon.” 

Last night, right before bed, he’d received a cryptic text reading nothing more than _“come over tomorrow at 4 it’s important.”_

Galo of course got super anxious about it and sent about a billion question marks, but Gueira reassured him that it was good, whatever it was. 

They haven’t really… talked since everything happened.

Galo feels guilty for that, to be honest. How many times has he covered someone in a shock blanket after pulling them out of a burning building or a car accident? How many times has he reassured someone who is watching their livelihood scorch in front of that it’s going to be okay?

He has fucking training in this! He’s talked countless strangers through their trauma. 

And yet he can’t even be bothered to do so for his best friend? 

Galo tries to come up with excuses why: he needed his space, needed his own time to sort out his anguish, his grief, that Gueira probably wouldn’t want to hear from him anyway… 

But in reality, Galo’s just been straight up avoiding him. 

Because seeing him solidifies their failures even further. 

That he couldn’t save her.

He also hasn’t seen Lio since their conversation on the rooftop. It seems he heeded Galo’s words and left him alone for once. 

Galo expected to be content with that, because isn’t that what he wanted? Isn’t that what he icily told Lio to do: Go?

He wanted time away from all this, time to process it on his own. And yeah, Lio is somewhat responsible. So he told him to fuck off. A little bit nicer wording, of course, but that was the gist of the sentiment. 

So why does keeping Lio at a distance seem to bother him so much?

There are still so many mixed up fucked up feelings swirling in Galo, and all he can do is put on a bright smile, declare that he’s the best firefighter ever, and fake his way through his day. 

Galo’s better than he was before, but he’s not sure he’ll ever be truly to the way he was before. He’s been irreversibly altered.

He can’t forget what happened. Yesterday, he got up early and made a pilgrimage to the site. There were no markings, no distinguishing features, nothing designating this pillar as the final resting place for a pure soul who deserved better, and Galo couldn’t let that slide. So he bought a bouquet from the flower shop down the street and left it there before anyone showed up. 

He won’t forget Thyma Cado. 

If nothing else, she will be remembered by him. 

“That’s nice,” Maria says, thrusting Galo back to the moment at hand. “Will you be home for dinner?” 

Galo shrugs easily. “Dunno, he didn’t say. I don’t have to go into work until tomorrow, so I could.” 

She sips her coffee. “Well, I’ve got Zumba tonight, so don’t wait up for me. Hang out with your friends who are way cooler than your mom,” she teases. 

Galo gawks back at her. This lighthearted banter is much more familiar to him. “No way! You’re the coolest mom! Don’t you say otherwise!” 

She laughs, a tinkling sound echoing in their small kitchen. “I know.” Maria exaggeratedly winks, then her expression takes on a more concerned look. “And cool moms talk with their sons. They share _everything,_ you know.” 

Oh, he’s been caught. Walked directly into this trap. She lured him right in. 

Galo loudly gulps. “Wellll,” he tries to salvage. “I just remembered I was gonna walk Matoi! Yeah!” He rockets up from the breakfast table. “Let’s go girl!” 

It’s a shitty out and he knows it, but his mom is content to let it slide, for now. 

She’s made her stance clear that they _are_ gonna talk about this at some point. 

Just…Later.

“Matoi, wanna go for a walk?” Galo asks excitedly. She happily barks in return, running circles around Galo’s legs. 

“Alright mom see you later love you!” 

Galo scampers out the door before he even hears a response. 

* * *

Meis kicks a derelict pebble with his boot, huffing under his breath. He knows what happened, any Burnish within a 30-mile radius knows what happened. It’s a change in the atmosphere, an electrical charge he can feel in the wind as it blows. It’s like the air of before thunderstorm: it looks the same, mostly feels the same, but there is a noticeable energy in it.

The power balance has shifted.

Something massive has happened.

And Meis fucking hates himself for it. 

Should he have been more proactive? Been clearer about his intentions, about what all this entails? Or was this inevitable? Was there never any chance of changing that one-track mind? Should he have just done damage control from the start? Or should he just avoid this all and say it’s not his problem?

None of his questions have any answers.

The only truth is: it happened.

“Fuck,” Meis curses, kicking another pebble into the graffiti-filled hallway of the abandoned building he’s hiding out in. It’s easier to duck into them than hang around the city all day, and daemons are attracted to decrepit structures, anyway. Plus, this one is multi-story, giving Meis a viewpoint over some of the city. It’s only the afternoon, he doesn’t expect to see any daemons boldly stepping out now, but he can’t be too careful.

Especially since he knows time is running out before Parnassus, and they need to be ready.

A footstep behind him causes Meis to abruptly turn around, ready to transform and defend himself if need be.

It’s not a daemon – it’s Lio Fotia. 

Meis thought he sensed another Burnish nearby, but honestly, he was hoping it would be the other one.

The new one.

The one that was never supposed to be one in the first place. 

Lio holds his hands up in a gesture of no harm. 

“Whaddaya want?” Meis asks, nearly growling in annoyance. It’s not Lio’s fault, of course, but his presence doesn’t do anything to lighten the guilt coiling in his gut, so his voice is taut.

Meis has only seen Lio in passing mostly, but each time, the Burnish has been determined, confrontational, on a mission. He’s cold, calculating, and every step he takes is a plan he’s formulated in advance.

Today, though, that air of purpose is missing. Lio looks almost... sympathetic? It’s not his usual aura of confidence at the very least.

“I don’t need anything,” Lio answers, turning to look at the broken windows overlooking the sprawling city. The spidering cracks in the panes reflect a dozen Lio’s back at him. “But do _you_ need anything?” 

Meis huffs a sigh through his nose. “Can you turn back time and fix a mistake?” he asks sarcastically, the ghost of a laugh forcing its way out. 

Lio stews on that for a moment, chewing on his lip. “Not right now.” 

“God I wish I could,” Meis laments. “That idiot.” His hands clench into white-knuckled fists. “Why would he-?”

No, no he’s not going to cry, he’s not going to fucking cry in front of this essentially a stranger about his failings. “He’s the one person I never wanted to get involved with this.”

“I’m sorry, Meis,” Lio offers quietly. It seems sincere, not some hollow half-assed sympathy. Lio seems to really understand his feelings right now. “But,” he continues. “There’s nothing we can do now.”

“I know that, asshole,” Meis snarks back, glaring at him. “And bullshit. There’s stuff I can do.” 

Lio takes the comeback well, brushing it off. “Like what?” 

“I’m-!” He grits his teeth. “I’m gonna make sure he doesn’t get his ass killed! Even if this is pretty much death anyway.” Looking down at his hand, blue and purple fire swirls around it angrily. 

“You know,” Lio starts. “This does give us another hand to-”

“No.” Meis immediately cuts that thought off. “He will not join that fight. He shouldn’t be in any fight! I-”

“Meis.” Lio tentatively approaches the other Burnish, taking a few small steps. “You shouldn’t beat yourself up over this.” 

Meis shrugs away from the attempt at closing the distance. “Whatever. Y’all can keep doin’ what you’re doin’. I’m gonna keep doin’ what I’m doin’. And Gueira won’t get in my way.” 

Lio’s face softens, looking concerned. “Don’t lose yourself over this.”

“Don’t tell me what to do like you know anything about this!” Meis cuts back. 

“I do know, though. And I’m telling you right now, _be careful.”_ There is weight to Lio’s words, spoken from a place of true solidarity. As if Lio really has seen this before. Maybe he has; Meis doesn’t know his background. Or cares, really.

“I don’t need you to watch over me,” he scoffs back. “I’ve been fine on my own.”

“But Gueira-”

“Gueira is my problem, not yours. Don’t you have your own idiot to worry about?” Meis turns back to Lio, lifting an eyebrow. “How’s he doing?” 

It’s not spoken like a challenge, but Lio takes it as one. “He’s _fine._ I’m trying to help you, you know.” Lio bristles. “I’m trying to help all of you, Galo most of all and-”

“Then you handle him,” Meis cuts off wherever that thought was going. His anger that’s been steadily ratcheting since the start of this conversation starts to subside when he realizes he’s taking it out on someone who’s not the true cause. “Listen, I know ya mean well, but I’m pissed off right now and-”

Lio lifts a hand, silencing him. “I get it. Things are… difficult for Burnish.”

They understand their place in this world, and the cruel fate at the end of it.

“I can see it in your eyes,” Meis says quietly, breaking their tenuous contemplative silence. “Who was it?” 

Lio looks up in surprise, not expecting the words. It’s maybe the first time Meis has seen him truly thrown for such a loop. He’s usually so poised and unflappable, but Meis’s words of camaraderie seem to break that down, if only for a moment. 

“Who was what?” Lio tries to get out of it, giving his tone an aspect of faux-confusion.

“You know. Who did you lose?” Meis moves his gaze off of Lio, letting him take the time to ponder the question, and turns it toward the ruined window. “For me, it was my dad and my brother. Pretty much my whole family.” Meis takes a long, deep breath, letting that settle in the air for a moment. “What about you?” 

Lio sighs in return, turning to look out the same window. 

Shattered, dirtied, sullied to the point where it can never be fixed, will never be able to return to the way it was.

Forever broken. 

Just like them. 

“I lost the person I love most in this world.” 

The afternoon sun reflects on the dust collected on the fragmented shards, creating a dozen magenta eyes glowing with fire. 

“And I won’t let it happen again.” 

* * *

By the time Galo gets all his errands done (including those long overdue groceries), it’s pretty much time to go over to Gueira’s. He’s been cryptic regarding what exactly this visit entails and why it’s so important, but Galo knows that even if it is some weird thing, they _do_ need to talk. 

They need to talk about what happened. And beyond that, there’s still a lot going on now, like Lio and Meis. And of course, Kraybey is still hanging around, pestering for a contract whenever Galo’s self-control starts to slip. He tells them no every time, because he needs time to think this all over, to figure out if this is worth anything. 

But he’s also not saying no forever. No for now. Ask again later. Outlook cloudy.

Just time to figure shit out. 

Galo hops on his bike and speeds over to meet his friend.

When he gets there, Gueira is already outside the building and waiting to meet him, which is unusual. He’s also got a shit-eating grin on his face that Galo _knows_ means that he’s up to something. 

“Hey man, how are you doing?” Galo starts easily enough.

**“Great!”** Gueira nearly shouts back. Galo’s almost always the most enthusiastic, over-the-top person in any conversation he’s in, so to be on the receiving end for once is startling. 

“C-Cool,” Galo stutters back. 

_“Is that what I sound like all the time?”_ He wonders to himself. 

_“Not all the time!”_ Kraybey answers back. _“But most often, yes. You are quite energetic, Galo Thymos. It is most unusual.”_

Oh, right, telepathy. Great. Gueira probably heard that too then.

“Let’s go! We’ve got a lot to do tonight!” Gueira announces, not acknowledging the telepathic conversation. He begins proudly marching in a direction down the street, no preamble. Galo’s still a little bewildered, but he follows because he’s not sure what else to do. It seems like the best idea.

“Um, where are we going?” he asks as they head down the streets of Promepolis in a seemingly random direction. 

“Hang on, you’ll see,” Gueira reassures him. Eventually, they reach an apparently suitable location, and Gueira pulls Galo inside a building. 

“What is this place, Gueira?” He looks about, but it appears to be empty and has been for a while. If Galo didn’t know his friend so well, he’d start worrying he was about to get murdered or something like that. Being dragged into a random abandoned building? Not exactly the most relaxing of outings. 

“Had to have a place to hide, y’know? Now!” he declares, feet apart and a proud fist at his heart. “Check this shit out!” 

The room suddenly fills with searing heat and a bright red light, so much so that Galo has to shield his eyes. He even starts to sweat a bit from the overwhelming scorch of whatever is going on. Then, just as quickly as it started, it fades away and Galo has to blink a few times to readjust. 

Standing before him is Gueira, but not in the way he’s expecting. There’s only one explanation for the sight. 

“You’re Burnish?!” Galo exclaims in absolute shock. 

“Damn straight!” Gueira declares. He twirls around, showing off his armored, spiky top and fiery pants and boots. “Daemons aren't gonna stand a chance against me!”

This is not something Galo expected. Gueira hadn’t mentioned anything about becoming Burnish! When did he decide? Why? Galo has a million questions but decides to start with just one. 

“But what about your wish?” 

Gueira’s beaming face falters for a brief moment before regaining it. “Helped Jay out. I think it was a good wish.” 

So he did help someone important to him; that’s worth something. And to be fair, Galo shouldn’t be one to judge what other people wish for, right? Gueira seems happy, elated even. He shouldn’t take that away from his best friend.

But at the same time, that’s a helluva commitment to make.

“You’re not regretting it?” he carefully words. 

“Regrets?” Gueira immediately scoffs before settling into a more contemplative expression. “I… can’t say I have any, truthfully.” He looks down at the glowing triangle at his collarbone. “Y’know, since I went through it anyway…” His gaze shifts to focus on something far away. “If I’d done it sooner, then…”

“Yeah…” Galo understands what he means. The guilt still wracks him, too. The fact that they were so helpless, so powerless, so fucking _mortal_ as they watched her light fade. He still remembers the first time he lost someone on the job, too. It never gets any easier. And Thyma… Thyma was much more personal than that. Thyma was right in front of him, tantalizingly close but unable to change her fate. 

Ashes…

Does that mean that is where Gueira is headed as well?

No, no! He can’t afford to think like that! That wouldn’t happen to Gueira, right? But then again, Thyma was experienced, had been at it for a year. Gueira just started what? Yesterday? Well, even if this is extremely dangerous, Galo refuses to abandon his friend. No, he won’t let another fall. He’ll help out himself if he has to! He’ll do whatever he can! That’s what Galo Thymos does! He saves everyone!

“Even so,” Gueira continues. “I don’t wanna get down about it, y’know? Because now I can keep on saving people. And c’mon!” Gueira does a little twirl, showing off the new threads. “I do look pretty dope, right? And!” He points to his face. “No glasses!” He grins. 

“Yeah,” Galo agrees, the corners of his mouth twitching back up. “You sure you’ll be alright?” he finds himself asking just to be sure.

“Pshh,” Gueira blows him off. “Have more faith in me, man. I got this!!!” He strikes another pose, red and orange fire snaking around him and accentuating his look. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Galo finally admits. “And of course, I’ll help out too!” 

“You gonna join me in the Burnish club?” Gueira asks with a tilt of his head. It’s almost egging him on, an excited edge in his voice.

Wouldn’t that be cool? Best bros defending the world together with their magnificent powers? Extinguishing daemons back to back and becoming the protectors of Promepolis?

But still…

But still something is holding Galo back. 

_“And you should stay that way.”_

_“Nothing but ash in the wind.”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

“Not exactly…” Galo unsteadily answers. “I’m still…”

“Dude, don’t worry about it,” Gueira easily reassures him. “You don’t have to.”

“But-!” he tries to interject. 

“Nah, you get to choose. That’s the whole point, right? _Your_ wish.” 

“Yeah,” Galo finally agrees. “But I’ll still help in any way that I can! I am Galo Thymos, after all! Firefighter Extraordinaire!” 

“Yeah! I’ll probably need help anyways. I don’t know what I’m doing to be honest.” He smiles a little nervously. 

“Do you ever?” Galo teases back. 

“Hey!” He throws an accusing finger back at Galo. “You’re one to talk!” 

“Touché.” 

“Hello!” Kraybey’s voice suddenly echoes through both of their heads, and they both turn towards the cat sitting between them. They have a paw raised and are pointing at the door to the abandoned warehouse they are sheltering in. Galo and Gueira follow the line of it until they see what has interrupted them.

In the doorway are two familiar faces. They’re not exactly glowering, but they’re also not exactly excited to be there. If anything, they’re neutrally approaching the situation. 

Galo doesn’t know what to say, because he hasn’t seen Lio since he (kinda rudely) told him to fuck off, and he’s never exactly had any conversation with Meis. 

Gueira, on the other hand, seems to take the new arrivals as direct opposition. He crosses his flashy arms with an indignant snort. 

“Whaddaya want?” he flippantly asks. “Can’t stop me now, can ya?” 

“No, I can’t,” Meis’ deep Southern drawl answers. Galo’s eyes flit between the two parties, unsure of if he should step in. Lio briefly makes eye contact with him before looking away.

That’s new. Did he really hurt him that much? It’s not like him to-

“Yeah,” Gueira huffs with an arrogant stomp of his flaming boot. “So go away and find your own daemons. I’m doin’ just fine over here”

“Are you?” Meis challenges back. “Y’all seem pretty outta your element.” 

“So what if I don’t know what I’m doing? I’ll learn. I’ll learn and become the best damn daemon slayer Promepolis has ever seen!” he declares. 

“You shouldn’t-”

“Shouldn't what, Meis? Shouldn’t fight daemons? Then what was all this for, then, huh?” Gueira gestures around himself. “I have the power now, so I might as well use it, right? Rather than just run away or leave everyone to fend for themselves?” The last part of that is very obviously directed at Lio, who stiffens in response. 

“You have no idea what you’ve gotten into,” Meis warns, a little crestfallen by Gueira’s fiery retorts. “You’ll-”

“I don’t care! Don’t you get it? I’m my own person, Meis. _I_ don’t run from things.” 

Meis flinches, hit particularly hard by that outburst.

“Gueira…” Galo attempts to mediate the rapidly spiraling situation. He does a pretty poor job of it. 

“I’m Burnish now, whether you like it or not. So don’t get in my way.” Gueira then de-transforms back down into his usual attire, Soul Flare in hand.

“Then don’t get in mine,” Meis throws back.

Gueira shrugs, then looks to Galo with an encouraging head nod towards the other door out of the room. “Let’s go.” 

Galo, who really doesn't know what is going on between Gueira and Meis and doesn’t feel like he should be a part of it anyway, just gives a little wave and starts following his friend. He does, however, turn around to look at the other two Burnish before he leaves the room. His gaze focuses on Lio, looking as wistful as ever. 

“Sorry, talk later!” he decides to shout over his shoulder. 

Lio’s surprised by the offering and nods in return, his eyes widened. Meis, on the other hand, looks stone-faced. Not angry, not annoyed, just… disappointed. He’s barely emoting at all, but if there is one, it’s guilt. 

By the time they leave the situation and are down the street a few blocks, Gueira is muttering under his breath. 

“Gueira?” Galo tries, but he’s shoved off. 

“Don’t.” He straightens his posture, keeping his gaze leveled forward. “Why don’t we fight some daemons, huh?” 

“Well,” Galo starts. He really doesn’t think Gueira fighting in this state right now would be good. He stalls. “I kinda need my Matoi… And I gotta work tomorrow. But after, sure!” 

“Galo.” Gueira seems oddly disgusted by his answer, almost sneering in response. “You’re just gonna let them be and let those two who don’t even care handle it?” 

“That’s not what I’m saying at all!” Galo says, waving his hands in front of himself. “I’m saying that we need to be careful, okay? I don’t want to lose you like Thyma!” 

Galo hopes the name drop will help Gueira see the reason behind the words, but instead, he just shrugs, as if unbothered to hear her name.

“Fine then. I’ll see you Wednesday. I’ll be practicing until then.” 

Galo can’t quite read if Gueira is pissed at him or is still pissed at Meis, so he just nods. He’s pretty sure it’s the latter, though. “Okay.” 

“We’ll be an awesome daemon-fighting duo!” 

“Yeah!” Galo emphatically agrees, lifting the mood back up. 

They’ll be okay, the both of them. He’ll make sure of it. 

* * *

Monday morning, Jason Valente wakes up feeling surprisingly invigorated. Gueira gives him a thumbs up at practice when he takes the lead in the sprints, in the drills, all of it. He is playing out of his mind well, and the pride shines in his crimson eyes. Especially considering he entered practice still sulking from yesterday’s failures, this has been a full 180 turn around for him.

It’s like everything that was holding him back is now gone.

When Jason tries to push himself, his body actually responds. Gueira sees the look of surprise and joy fill his features as he realizes his abilities. He also not-so-subtly nudges Coach Phil to take a look at the boy suddenly moving swiftly, agilely, like lightning.

Tuesday, Gueira sits down with his brother during practice and asks him how it’s going. 

“Awesome!” Jason beams. “I haven’t felt this good in, well… I don’t know how long! It’s like a huge weight is off my chest. I don’t know what happened, but…”

“But you’re glad,” Gueira finishes for him, smiling with pride. 

“Yeah, Gay, I am.” He kicks his cleats at the AstroTurf, bouncing a bit. “I feel so light, like I could do anything!” 

Gueira thinks about the fire in his veins, the triangle embedded in his skin. He feels the hard obsidian under his pads. The power coursing through it. “I know what you mean.”

“Do you think…” Jason starts, still a little unsure of himself. “That I’ll get another shot?” 

“Jay, of course you will!” Gueira declares. “I’ll talk to Coach!” He ruffles Jason’s helmet hair good-naturedly and gets a tongue stuck at him in response. Jason takes off running towards the field, greeted by all his teammates who compliment him on his work so far. 

Before he approaches Coach, he takes a good look at the sight. Jason smiling brightly, brighter than the sun, as teammates clasp him on the shoulder and high-five him after a scrimmage where he hit every throw, every play dead-on. The defense couldn’t do a damn thing to stop him. 

He’s the version of himself Gueira knew he always could be.

And sure, maybe it’s not himself on the field like he wanted, but this is almost better. 

He made this happen. 

Yeah, it was worth it. 

He doesn’t even have to bring it up. Coach Phil sees him approaching and nods. 

“I don’t know what changed, but I’ve never seen a kid like that perform. He’s got the slot for Friday.” 

Gueira really did it. 

There’s no way he’ll ever regret it. 

* * *

“Galo, you seem better,” Aina comments when he heads in for his shift on Tuesday. 

He was sure at an all-time low before, so that makes sense. Literally anything else would be an improvement. But even despite that, Galo really is doing somewhat better. Time heals, even if it gradual.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It’s been hard, but I’m working at it.”

“Do you…?” She leaves the question unfinished, but Galo knows what it means. 

“I’d rather not get into details,” he admits. “But I uh… My… My friend died.” He didn’t mean to blurt out the truth so candid, without any preamble, but there it is. 

Aina’s eyes widen before softening into a comforting expression. “That’s hard. I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah…” 

“Just know we’re here for you, Galo. Burning Rescue is always here for you. Always.” She wraps up Galo in a tight hug.

“Thanks, Aina.” 

When they get a call for a fire at a restaurant on the edge of town, Galo valiantly extinguishes it with his Matoi Tech and burning soul. The thrill of extinguishing makes him feels much better. Riding the high of defeating a fire is a feeling that is unmatched in Galo Thymos’ book. Daemons or not, a fire’s a fire. 

When he steps out of the Matoi and proudly looks over the charred but still standing building, he sees a silhouette atop it, cape blowing in the wind. 

So it _was_ a daemon, then. 

Galo gives Lio an understanding nod, and the Burnish takes a running leap off the roof to go finish the job. 

They could make a great team, he thinks. Galo extinguishing fires with his Matoi, and Lio defeating daemons with his own powers. They’d have each other’s backs, fighting the battles on two fronts, defending Promepolis with ease. 

Despite Galo’s (and Lio’s, to be fair) rudeness on various occasions, he feels a tangible pull in his direction. 

They could make a great team. 

Maybe, in a way, they already are. 

* * *

Wednesday, Galo pulls up in front of Gueira’s place, Matoi streaming behind him. He’s still a little apprehensive, honestly. He’s spent most of the day worrying about Gueira’s safety and his own. Galo’s run into dangerous situations, hell, it’s in his fucking job description. But even that feels different than this. Galo trained for years in school before he went into his first life-threatening fire. Sure, he handled it like a breeze, but Gueira’s been Burnish for what? Three days now? And he thinks he can just waltz into a labyrinth? 

Galo’s got some faith in his friend, for sure, but it’s still…

The last time they did this, it didn’t go well. 

He won’t let it happen again. 

Galo Thymos saves everyone. **_Everyone._**

Gueira greets him with a confident wave, Kraybey perched on his shoulder. There is a spark behind his eyes, glowing with the fire of his newfound strength. Even with all that energy, there’s still trepidation hidden behind that blazing fury, which in a weird way, is a comfort. Galo would be more worried if Gueira wasn’t worried.

“Hey man.”

“Hey!” Gueira approaches him, holding a fist out for a bump. Galo decides to bump it with the top portion of his Matoi instead and gets a light chuckle at that. 

“I’m so pumped up!” Gueira announces, steadily marching forward. “I’ve been practicing my moves!” 

“Nice! So have I!” Galo does a dramatic twirl and finishes with a Matoi flourish. “We so got this!” 

“Fuck yeah we do!” 

Galo quickly shoves down any more apprehension in favor of his characteristic bravado. 

“Gueira Valente, Promepolis’s Number One Burnish! I’ll defeat all the daemons! I’ll save everyone!” The pair practically strut down the street, Gueira’s fiery red Soul Flare leading the way. They wander for a bit, Gueira staring intently at the pyramid in his hands as if it holds the answers to questions he keeps asking. 

_“You know,”_ Kraybey’s voice comes into Galo’s head. _“It’s a good thing that you’re here.”_

_“It is?”_ Galo asks back. Gueira’s still focused on his Soul Flare, so he must not be part of this telepathic conversation. 

_“Yes,”_ they reply. _“If things get very bad, you can be our backup.”_

Backup?

_“You mean...?”_

_“Galo Thymos, the potential you possess is almost incalculable. If we are in dire straits and you make a contract, you would be able to vanquish anything.”_

_“Anything?”_ This is the first time he’s hearing about this. Him having incredible power? Well, he does already have mad fire extinguishing skills, doesn’t he? Is that what makes him such a powerful potential Burnish? 

_“No,”_ Kraybey pops in again _. “I honestly do not know why you contain such potential. It is truly an anomaly.”_

Him? An anomaly? Well, he _has_ learned that his life is nowhere near normal. Maybe that’s it? He shrugs. 

_“Good to know, I guess,”_ he answers. _“But I doubt it’ll come to that. I already know how to handle fires with ease!”_

In a way, it _is_ a reassurance. 

One he’d rather not use, but a reassurance nevertheless.

He doubts he’ll need to use it though.

Nah, they’ll be fine.

Right? 

“Hey we got a hit!” Gueira announces, anticipation in his voice. The warm red glow emanating from his Soul Flame grows, leading them into a parking structure. It’s mostly emptied out by this time of night, and the fluorescent lights flicker and do a poor job of keeping the shadows from creeping in. It’s not a comforting place, not one would want to end up at in the middle of the night.

They follow the trail until they reach the roof. Once they get there, there is a sudden flash of light, and then an odd collection of constellations connected by wisps of smoke appears. 

“HA! **IT’S TIME!”** Gueira all but shouts. A blazing crimson engulfs his form, nearly blinding Galo, until he’s standing, fire curling up his forearms. 

The daemon appears, a small one taking the form of a fish swimming in the air, leaving flames and smoke behind it. It is almost koi-like, if not for the aggressive expression and sharp teeth snapping. It quickly disappears behind some shadows, ducking back into its labyrinth. 

“Is that one?” Gueira asks. 

“Yes,” Kraybey answers. “It is young, but still powerful.” 

“Well, let’s go get it then!” Gueira begins proudly marching forward towards the labyrinth entrance. He flexes his arms, and the flames glow, covering his hands like gauntlets. “I’ve been waitin’ for something like this!” 

Galo follows suit, brandishing his Matoi and giving a big breadth of confidence to his strides.

“Yeah!” he emphatically agrees. “Daemons, get ready for the double team of a burning Burnish and a burning firefighter’s soul! Extinguishing like nothin’ the world’s ever seen!!!!”

They got this, yeah, it’ll be fine-

_Thyma, falling, crashing like the angel she is-_

Galo shakes himself out of it, and continues his march. 

Gueira’s nearly at the labyrinth entrance when suddenly, before he can even react to it, a whip of blue flame strikes out, encircling his legs. Gueira goes to take another step and is promptly entangled in the whip, faceplanting onto the concrete. 

“Hey what gives?” Gueira loudly complains, ripping apart the rope with his fiery gloved hands. Galo turns around to see Meis Denton, glowing blue whip in hand, glaring at the both of them. Gueira glares back and stands up, brushing his nose with the back of his hand. 

“What the fuck was that for?” he snarls. “I thought you were gonna stay out of this.” 

“I told _you_ to, actually,” Meis pointedly replies back. “And you didn’t.”

“So?”

“So you’re the one interfering, really.” 

“Why do you have to be such an asshole?” Gueira nearly roars before his voice shrinks down significantly. “What happened to you, Meis?” He looks almost truly hurt if not for the anger roiling inside of him. He’s pissed - Galo can feel it by the heat in the air growing at a sweltering pace - but he also feels betrayed by his former flame.

“I’m trying to do my job,” Meis answers, face suddenly downcast and hidden by his bangs. “That’s all.” 

“And taking my kill is part of that?” 

Meis lifts his head. “Making sure you don’t get killed is part of that.” 

“I’m fine. I can handle this.” He turns around to start reentering the labyrinth before his wrist is caught by another lasso throw. 

“You **_can’t!”_**

That really gets Gueira going, and he rips the offending weapon off of his arm.

“Is that how it’s gonna be?” 

“You will not enter that labyrinth,” Meis states, another whip swirling above his head. It almost seems to be producing a melody as it spins, a haunting tune following it through the air.

“And if I do?” Gueira challenges, cocking his head to the side.

“I’ll stop you.” 

Gueira himself seems a little surprised by the straightforward answer. “You’d fight me?”

“If that’s what it takes.” Meis seems resigned to his decision even if he doesn’t like it. He’s more doing this out of some personal obligation, it seems. Galo isn’t sure what, but Meis looks like he sincerely meant the words.

“Gueira, why did you become Burnish?” Meis suddenly asks.

“It’s none of your business, really,” he spits back. “But if you really wanna know, it was to help my brother.” He nods to himself, looking down at the triangle embedded in his skin with pride. “It was a good wish. And now I’m gonna save even more people! I’m gonna be a hero!!”

“Justice? Savin’ people? Wishing to help others?” Meis scoffs, a solemn edge in his tone as he shakes his head. “That’s not how it works. That’s how you _die.”_

He lashes out his weapon, and Gueira just barely dodges with a roll to the side. Gueira glares harshly back, fire glowing in his hands and behind his eyes. He stands up, making a show of dusting off his pants. 

“So you just fend for yourself? Don’t care about others?”

“Justice is _bullshit,”_ Meis grits through his teeth. “There’s no such thing.”

“Damn,” Gueira laughs humorlessly. “What happened to the boy with big dreams and an even bigger heart?” 

Meis locks eyes with him. “That boy is dead.”

That’s the last straw. A single beat passes before both Burnish leap towards one another, bound to clash in the middle. 

“Wait!” Galo interjects, trying to step between them. Shouldn’t they be working together, not at each other’s throats? This isn’t how things were supposed to go! 

He takes one big stride, then two, towards the fires swarming to meet, his arms flailing in an attempt to get them to see reason. 

“Idiot,” someone mutters behind him. One moment, Galo’s rushing towards where the two Burnish are about to clash, and the next, he’s somewhere else entirely. He blinks a few times, trying to make sense of how the hell he ended up on a neighboring roof. He was for sure over there, and there’s a not miniscule gap between these buildings.

  
So how the fuck?

On the other rooftop, the two Burnish collide in a chaotic mishmash of red and blue flames. Gueira throws a massive red punch, only to be sidestepped and blocked by Meis. They’re dancing around one another, and it’s a white-hot, massive clamor. However, Galo can barely focus on it, though, because he’s still trying to figure out what exactly happened to him. 

“Idiot,” the voice says again. 

“Huh?” Galo turns around to find the source and notices a hand clamping his arm. 

“You can’t just run in like that,” Lio chastises him, a pleading look in his eyes. 

Of course it’s Lio. He stands in his Burnish form, but his stance appears less threatening than previous occasions. Behind them, the roar of flames and angry yells clash as the two Burnish are still going at it. Right, he still needs to do something to handle that. 

“But what about-?” Galo starts, gesturing at the scene unfolding around them. “I can’t just let them-!” Die. The last part is unsaid, but Lio understands. 

_“If you are truly worried,”_ Kraybey’s voice jumps into his head. _“Then you can help, but only if-”_

“You don’t need to make a contract, Galo,” Lio’s voice overpowers the one in his head. “They are fighting, yes, but neither truly wants to kill the other. They will be okay, I promise.” 

“How can you promise such a thing?” Galo balks back. They certainly look like they’re fighting pretty fucking hard. He can barely keep up what with all the smoke and fire and quick movements. “You don’t know what’s gonna happen!” 

Lio gives him a curious look before reassuring him once again. “They won’t die. And there’s nothing you can do to stop them right now. Let them get it out of their systems.” 

As Lio finishes saying that, the two battling Burnish tumble off of the parking garage, apparently taking their squabble elsewhere. 

“What about the daemon?” Galo asks. He can still see the peculiar doorway outlined in odd glyphs. He tightens his grip on the Matoi. “Should I help or-?”

“No,” Lio answers with a shake of his head. “Wait here. This’ll be just a moment.” 

“I don’t think I have any other choice…” Galo mumbles. He’s on a rooftop at least eight stories up, and he doesn’t exactly see an easy to get off of it. 

Lio takes a running leap across the gap as if it is nothing at all. He lands gracefully and enters the labyrinth, while all Galo can do is stand by and twirl his Matoi. 

He hates it. 

Isn’t this exactly what he said he wouldn’t do? Wouldn’t abandon his friends, wouldn’t let anyone fall without his intervention? That’s the vow he said as he laid the forget-me-nots down at Thyma’s site!

He’s already failed it! 

Feeling antsy and upset, Galo taps his foot and wanders along the edge of the roof to see if he can find any indication of where Gueira and Meis ran off to, but no luck. 

Within but a few minutes, Lio returns as he promised. His hair is a little more blown-out than usual, probably from the fight, but other than that, he appears unscathed. 

(And honestly, it looks pretty cute fluffed up like that. Much better than it long.) 

(Wait, why did he think-?)

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Lio apologizes, de-transforming into his usual attire with a quick pink glow. The courtesy does make Galo feel a little more at ease. It doesn’t give him much more comfort on how they fuck they are going to get down from here, though. Or how Lio got him over here in the first place.

Without his cape and magnificent outfit, Lio looks calm rather than combative. He usually carries himself with such presence, such power, that seeing him this vulnerable is rare. 

But it’s no less captivating. The moonlight dappling on his mint hair, the city lights reflecting in his eyes, showcasing their immense depth, the slightest hint of pink dusting his porcelain cheeks.

He’s utterly stunning. 

Something pulls at the core of his chest, urging Galo to close the distance between them. He doesn’t fight it. With the way Lio looks, his expression open and not the cold, hard exterior he’s used to seeing, it’s so inviting Galo won’t say no.

“You said you wanted to talk,” Lio starts, walking towards what looks like an air conditioner unit sitting on the roof. He takes a seat on it, scooting over to leave room for Galo. “Still up for that? Or no?” 

He’s kind enough to leave him an out just in case. Part of him almost takes it, wanting to keep him at bay due to what happened.

But another part is desperate to stop dancing around each other. He’s wanted to have a conversation alone with Lio, no odd standoffish remarks, no daemons lurking around the corners, for a while. Sure, they had one on the Burning Rescue roof, but he was kind of rude then and still feels bad about it. 

“We can talk,” Galo says. The corners of Lio’s mouth drift up for but a second before he regains his neutral expression. Seems he hadn’t expected Galo to take the olive branch.

“Alright.”

Galo sits down next to Lio, leaving a few inches between them. There’s a brief silence where neither really knows how to begin. Galo figures an apology is the easiest way to start.

“Sorry for being a dick earlier.” 

Lio tilts his head down, gazing at his lap. “It wasn’t unwarranted. Everything you said was true.” 

“Still.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for, Galo. If anything, _I’m_ sorry.” Lio’s voice is far more unsteady than the normal confidence he boasts. Though it is shaky, the tone is sincere, so Galo accepts it.

“You’re fine, Lio.” 

The line of his shoulders relaxes a little, as if Lio really wasn’t sure that this would go well. He lets out a long sigh, letting the sounds of the city fill in the silence. 

“I was mad, I won’t lie. But…” Galo pauses as he thinks about that day. “I think I was mad at myself more than anything.” He lifts his gaze to the sky, starless and drowned out by the magnificent metropolis surrounding them. “And I took it out on you. So, I’m sorry.” 

“Thyma’s death was preventable. You’re not wrong to believe that,” Lio tells him, mirroring his position. They both gaze up at the light polluted void of a sky, the bustling noises of the city filling their silence. 

“Lio…” Galo says. “I want to ask you something.” He struggles a bit trying to find the words. 

Lio’s breath hitches just the slightest bit. Galo’s not sure why, not sure what he’s expecting. 

“Do you ever feel like-? No.” Galo shakes his head, trying to get his brain to form the words he wants to say. “When Thyma died, you said that all Burnish become ashes.” 

“They do. You saw that yourself,” Lio replies. “When our flames are all used up, they burn us out completely. Only ashes remain.” It’s still such a gruesome thought that Galo shudders a bit when he thinks about it. 

“Yeah. But... You _knew.”_

Lio’s eyes move in his direction, throwing him a questioning glance. “And?” 

“Have you seen other Burnish die? Like that?” Galo finally manages to get out. 

Lio’s eyes widen in surprise before returning to the solemness of before. He tilts his head back down towards his lap. Galo sees his fingers tighten around his thighs, gripping harshly. “Yes, I have.”

Galo figured as much, but it still is surprising to hear it out loud in the open. Lio’s seen people die beyond just Thyma. And to be fair, so has Galo, but seeing Burnish die is very different than being too late to save someone from a fire. 

“I’ve seen it…,” Lio continues. He worries his lip, trying to get the last few words out. “Quite a few times.” 

There’s a noticeable crack in his voice on the “quite”. Galo was expecting a yes - Lio had to have seen Burnish die before to react the way he did - but the way his melancholy tone trembles echoes of so many more than one or two. It’s the tone of a battle-hardened veteran who’s seen war and the absolute devastation it brings. It echoes of someone who has been through Hell, survived it, but was irreversibly changed by it. The words of a soldier who’s fought for so long they barely flinch at tragedies anymore.

“Oh,” is all Galo can manage to reply. It doesn’t nearly have the same impact of Lio’s words. “So how long have you been Burnish then?” 

Because they don’t seem that far apart in age, to be honest. But if Lio’s seen as much as his tone implied…

“A while,” Lio answers, noncommittal. 

“So you’ve seen a lot, then,” Galo understands. 

“I have.” Lio turns to face him, all eye contact and dominating presence once more. “Being Burnish is not becoming some idealistic hero of justice, Galo. It’s fighting until you’re all used up and there’s nothing left.”

Galo squeaks an embarrassing noise of surprise. “Uh-”

“It’s a fruitless endeavor,” he continues. “You’d do more good staying how you are.”

“Will that happen to Gueira?” Galo blurts out. 

Lio takes on a colder stare, lacking the heat of passion from before. “Gueira Valente made his choice, and so, yes, he will.”

“And I can’t change that?”

“You can’t.” 

Galo deflates at that. Not that he didn’t expect the answer - he did - but it still hurts to hear. Gueira will die and become ashes at some point. But then again, everyone is bound to die at some point. At the very least, Galo will fight for his friend until the very last moment. Lio, on the other hand, seems like he’s not fighting to prevent that. He’s fighting a battle – what that battle exactly is Galo still isn’t sure – but it’s not the battle of saving Gueira, Meis, or even Thyma. Galo finally understands his words.

“You’ve given up on all the Burnish already, haven’t you, Lio?” 

Lio lets out a long breath, closing his eyes in thought for a moment. “You could say that.”

“Including yourself?” 

Lio’s eyes fly open in shock, gazing directly into Galo’s. They’re so deep, so incredibly beautiful and mesmerizing. Before, they were hard amethyst gemstones, declarative and unbreakable. They were pools of boiling magma, massively deep and scorchingly bright.

But now, up close, Galo can see what truly lies within Lio’s eyes – grief. His eyes are cracked panes of magenta stained glass, shining with unshed tears and unsaid words. He’s seen so much that even his eyes are shattered, broken by the cruel and vicious things he’s bore witness to.

But he’s still beautiful. Lio’s gaze has always beckoned him, commanded all of his attention every time Galo sees him. But in this intimate of a setting, it’s completely enthralled him.

Before he can even realize what he’s doing, his hand has come up to caress Lio’s soft cheek. 

“You know,” Lio whispers, leaning into the touch. “There’s still one person I haven’t given up on yet.”

There is a tangible string encircling them, pulling them closer together, binding them to one another.

“We will all be ash in the end,” Lio continues, his voice just a breath that Galo’s close enough to feel the warmth of. “Nothing can save me.” A hand catches his wrist at the bone, thumbing at the ribbon tied there. “Burnish aren’t meant to last.”

Galo leans closer; they’re mere inches apart now. His heart thuds in his chest. It’s strange, yet still not unfamiliar. Like a long-lost childhood memory resurfacing.

“Nothing can save me,” Lio repeats, the macabre words sounding oddly reverent spilling from his lips. “Not even a lucky ribbon. But I can save...” 

Lio leans imperceptibly closer. If Galo just leaned the tiniest bit forward and closed the distance then-

Wait.

Hold on a sec.

Galo’s brain finally processes Lio’s words and he’s so thrown off that he backs up completely, shattering whatever world they had just created.

“Wait, how do you know about my lucky ribbon?” he questions, completely perplexed. They’ve never spoken about it, that’s for sure. It’s a story he keeps close to his heart due to its importance. And it’s not like he’s spoken to Lio all that much anyway. Then how?

Lio’s trance is also snapped, and he looks almost terrified. What happened to that tender gaze from before? 

“S-Sor-” Lio stutters, looking panicked. “I- You-”

“Lio?” Galo asks carefully, reaching a hand out to try and ground him. 

“D-Don’t worry about it,” Lio brushes him off. Galo’s never seen him this frazzled. He’s usually so composed. 

“Lio?” he tries again.

Galo then finds the next few seconds a blur. He barely can follow what’s going on until he’s somehow standing back down at street level a little dazed.

How the hell did he get here? How did any of that happen? How did Lio know about his ribbon? What would’ve happened if Galo hadn’t said anything?

Fuck, his head is starting to hurt from thinking about all this.

Galo looks around for any sign of Lio, but all he sees is a car passing by. 

Absentmindedly, Galo brushes his fingertips along his bottom lip, feeling tingles in response.

Almost like the ghost of a touch.

He searches some more, but Lio is nowhere to be found.

What the hell was all that? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost kisses are such a tease, aren't they? 😁 Don't worry, real ones will come. Eventually.  
> And yes, I did add a Twilight reference. Going back to my roots of 2009 ff.net. 
> 
> The next chapter is all gueimei content! It might take a bit to go up. I'm currently working on another project that's gonna go up next week, so I need time to work on that. I promise it will come, though! I have it written as well as part of chap 10. I'll post it when I finish writing chapter 10, probably. I like to keep a chapter backlog. 
> 
> Thank you all for your support of this fic! I love comments and kudos and such 😘
> 
> Lio: [ design](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1264339475385090050) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5VR2kBUeDcKUV8xbkL2UGZ?si=uKUjQHa_RrOykBTKUZ6XDw)  
> Galo: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465576312369152) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0sNtLmDzN7dB5tEqFqIU7l?si=8Wg7RFO7SPehRXTKXZvA2g)  
> Gueira: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465651881062400) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6doiKEiNKOID9NLayErpKC?si=HbCakW2XTLKWOPtORYp0uw)  
> Meis: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465759079120898) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1JHJ0Q1ItSkbm01YThTMtI?si=RHolpgxLRma0h9ZmtkiORg)  
> Thyma: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465852272373760) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/32v0MxGX2hB5pYRNkYUIy8?si=AvZkfR4KRpGMTeB57SO0ZA)  
> Kraybey: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465957163495424)
> 
> Hit me up here or on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/ashesfadein2gay) or my [ curiouscat! ](https://curiouscat.me/jabbles)
> 
> See you soon! 💕


	9. Imago Pulverulentus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gueira just wants answers at this point.
> 
> They’ve danced around each other far too much. There have been insults, punches, and flames hurled at one another for too long.
> 
> Meis says he wants to talk.
> 
> Maybe it’s time to actually have a civil conversation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!!
> 
> _Imago Pulverulentus:_ dusty reflection, murky view of one's self
> 
> Okay so this update took SO much longer than I anticipated because I really hit a wall with writing chapter 10 and didn't wanna post 9 until 10 was done. I FINALLY finished it last weekend and think I have my writing groove back. We are getting to the good stuff!! Thank you all for your patience! 
> 
> Special thanks to the gueimei king [ Adri ](https://twitter.com/xxgueiraxx) for letting me borrow his oc Adrian!!   
> Additional special thanks to the gueimei queen[ Van ](https://twitter.com/danganphobia) for letting me borrow Meis' older brother, Tommy! Also for letting me throw in some references to her incredible gueimei fic [ Black Stones!! ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24043306/chapters/57853810) Seriously, check it out. 
> 
> Lastly, a BIG thanks my partner-in-crime [ Purbs ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs) for supporting me with incredible angsty ideas. luv u girl <3
> 
> This chapter is just 9k of gueimei. Enjoy! 😘
> 
> cw for alcoholism and offscreen deaths
> 
> -Jabbles💕

The moon shines brightly in the sky as bass thumps from a nearby building. Gueira and Meis lean against the dirtied concrete wall of a parking structure, both thoroughly frazzled. They’re sweaty, smell like cheap beer and sugary drinks, and panting hard as they look at the entrance of the alleyway they’ve snuck off into. 

“Think we lost ‘em?” Gueira asks between anxious breaths, his chest heaving. 

“I think we ditched ‘em at the last turn,” Meis says. His gaze still flits between the open alley entrance and his friend nearly doubled over from their incredible escape. “Don’t hear anyone nearby.”

“I-” Gueira swallows another deep breath. “Am gonna kill Adrian when I see him next.” 

“Gueira,” Meis admonishes, rolling his eyes at his friend. “You know this wasn’t his fault.”

“He said we wouldn’t be caught!” Gueira frowns and kicks at the sullied ground. “ _‘Come to Black Stones’_ he said! _‘It’ll be fun’_ he said! _‘The bouncers won’t notice your fakes’_ he said!” Gueira scoffs, glaring at the spilled drink now coating his favorite shirt. “Now I’m outta breath, smell like marshmallow vodka, and we didn’t even get to see the end of the set!” 

“Come on though,” Meis pries with a smirk on his face. The black lipstick he has on is a little smeared, but he makes it work regardless. “Wasn’t that fun? Running from the law?” 

“You-” Gueira accuses, pointing a finger at him. “Are a bad influence. I have scholarships I need to protect.” 

“I thought this was Adrian’s fault?” Meis replies faux-innocently, laying a delicate hand on his chest and batting his one visible eye. “Which, by the way, you haven’t thought to even check on him, have you?” 

“Oh shit…” Gueira realizes. Meis is right. Somewhere in the chaos of being discovered that not only were they underage, but not even _eighteen,_ and subsequently getting shoved out of the club, they lost their other friend. He starts patting himself down frantically in search of his phone. Shit man, they got away, but what if Adrian-?

“Lucky for you,” Meis tells him, holding a phone screen in front of him. “I thought to check.” 

Gueira realizes it’s his phone (when the fuck did Meis get ahold of it?) and sees a text from Adrian on the screen. 

[Adrian 12:52 AM] made it out, taking an uber home now. you guys good? 

“That’s a relief,” he says, taking the offering back to reply to Adrian.

[Gueira 12:55 AM] yeah, me and meis are hiding in an alley rn. think we are good. that was scary af 😰

[Adrian 12:56 AM] thanks for ditching me :p asshole

[Gueira 12:56 AM] SORRY SHIT GOT WILD AND YOU SAID WE WOULDN’T GET CAUGHT

[Adrian 12:57 AM] I DIDN’T THINK YOU WOULD START SHIT??? it’s fine we made it out alive. that’s what matters

[Adrian 12:57 AM] and you can still do what you were planning on yknow ;)

Gueira blushes at the message before tucking his phone back into his pocket. 

Sure, maybe he had kinda agreed to this whole night with an end goal in mind, but that was before some guy started messing with their group and inevitably led to them all running from the bouncers who were ready to hand them over to the cops.

Fuck, this was not how tonight was supposed to go.

They were supposed to all get dressed up in their hottest clothes, sneak into Black Stones undetected, and watch Dead Man’s Hand perform. This was supposed to be their last hurrah, a wild night of shenanigans to toast to before high school ended. And maybe, just maybe, Gueira’d find the courage to confess how he’d been feeling all this time. He’d even told Adrian about the idea and he seemed all for it, claiming that it was _“about fucking time.”_

It was all planned out in his mind. It’d be towards the end of the night, when DMH switches to a slower song, like maybe some sort of love ballad. Gueira would have just enough alcohol in his system to keep his insecurities at bay, but not too much to make him stumble over his feet. Maybe he’d ask Meis to dance, or maybe they’d just be leaning against the wall or at a booth and make eye contact. The gentle melodies lilting over them, the warm flush of a few drinks, and Meis’s beauty filling his whole vision. Then he’d finally admit it. 

_“You’re beautiful. I love you.”_

But things don’t exactly go to plan, do they? 

Even now, in the dim streetlight and shitty alleyway, Meis is still beautiful. His hair is down from the extravagant updo he had before, but still covers half his face and shoulders. It’s wild and blown-out from running through the Promepolis night air, but still looks just as silky, as if it’s begging Gueira to card his fingers through it. It reminds Gueira of midnight, a starless sky, reminiscent of a void he could lose himself in. 

His makeup is a little messed up from the escape (and the drink that was thrown at Gueira of which he was collateral damage) but mostly intact. He’s got on a crop top, black skinny jeans, and his trademark cowboy boots. Never can forget that Texas heritage.

So beautiful. 

He almost utters the words before Meis speaks and throws him out of the trance. 

“Well now what?” Meis huffs. “Should we go home?” 

_“You can still salvage this,”_ Gueira reassures himself, just under his breath. 

“Nah, the night’s still young!” Gueira grins wildly. “Wanna see what other shit we can get up to?”

“My, my,” Meis muses, a bright teasing smile gracing his face. “Perhaps I am a bad influence.”

“No more clubs though. Think I’ve had enough of that for one day.” 

“I agree. Hm.” Meis knocks against the concrete structure forming one wall of their hideout. “What do ya say about climbing this and fuckin’ around on the roof?” 

An interesting development. Not as romantic as a song and everything, but a rooftop view of their city is certainly a respectable backup option. He’ll take it.

“You gonna race me?” Gueira smirks back, throwing the challenge his way. 

“You maniac. We just ran from the fuckin’ cops. No, I ain’t gonna race you. Why’s everythin’ gotta be a competition?” 

Gueira shrugs. “Alright, bitch.” He starts walking towards the doorway to the stairwell. They’re downtown, so the parking garage is at least eight stories high. A lot of stars to climb, but a worthy challenge. 

“Gueira, I’m in _heels.”_

“Bitchy bitch _bitch~”_ he continues teasing. 

_“Gueira.”_

Gueira summons whatever strength he still has left in his tank and begins running up the stairs of the structure. They’re dirty, smell like piss, and some are missing a few chunks, but he doesn’t care. It almost feels like he’s flying over them, laughing and giggling and without a care in the world. As if all that escaping from the cops didn’t drain him, as if he’s just a kid in love and high off the feeling. 

And maybe he is.

He makes it up a few flights before he stops long enough to hear the telltale click-clack of boots following behind. 

“You asshole,” Meis seethes. “Why do I listen to you?” 

“You love me!” Gueira teases with a wink, hiding the very real deeper feelings of how much he wants that to be true. Even if this isn’t reciprocated, even if Meis doesn’t love him the way he wants, he still has this moment. He watches as Meis rounds a corner, huffing under his breath and red-faced from the booze and the exertion. 

He has this moment. 

He almost says it right then and there. 

But then Meis runs past him, throwing an elbow into his ribs. 

“Don’t get caught slackin’,” he chastises in his drawl as he passes him. Gueira can only shake it off and continue the race, determination renewed. 

They make it to the roof neck and neck and collapse onto the asphalt, panting. 

“I **_*huff*_** win,” Gueira heaves. 

“In your **_*inhale*_** dreams,” Meis throws back.

They both stare up at the light-polluted night sky while laying atop an empty Promepolis parking garage, the tiny rocks digging into their backs. It’s quiet, or at least as quiet as a city like Promepolis can be, and it’s nostalgic. In the back of his mind, Gueira knows that his seconds with Meis are ticking down one by one. College isn’t everything – of course it isn’t – but he knows things will change. He won’t see Meis every day. He won’t be able to have Meis over for dinner and to play video games. Meis won’t be in the crowd at his games.

It’s going to be decidedly different, and it makes this moment feel that much more important.

“I’m gonna miss you…” Meis says quietly. It seems he’s not the only one getting nostalgic over growing up.

Because they’re graduating and Meis is leaving town to help his dad get set up in Nashville in four days. Then after he’s set, he’s off to music school in Texas and that’s it. 

“Me too…” Gueira agrees, still looking at the sky and not the object of his affections. He tells himself it’s because he’s trying to stay cool and aloof. It’s more so that he doesn’t start crying before he can even confess. He laughs quietly. “Don’t forget about me when you’re all rich and famous, k?” 

“I ain’t gonna leave you behind, man,” Meis reassures him, nudging his shoulder with his own.

Gueira’s heart flutters at the brief contact before calming himself down. “Good.” 

They lay in silence for a bit longer, simply enjoying each other’s company in the bliss of youth before the real world can catch up with them. 

Suddenly, Gueira hears the soft hum of a few notes. Meis is singing a tune under his breath. That’s not unusual, though this song isn’t one he recognizes. He’s not even sure Meis realizes he’s singing it himself, but his deep voice carries through the night, past the honking cars and noises of a bustling city, removing them all until it’s just the two of them in this world. 

_“And if I could see beyond that sun, ‘cause baby you’re the one,”_

_“And if I could stretch beyond the stars, just to fall back in your arms,”_

_“I’d do it without a second thought.”_

_“Maybe then we’d make it out of this.”_

“That’s nice,” Gueira praises, warmth filling his features and his chest. 

“Oh.” Meis looks surprised, as if he hadn’t realized Gueira was listening.

“You don’t have to stop,” he pursues further. He could listen to Meis sing for hours, lulling him to sleep with his own personal siren tune. It’s beautiful.

“No, it’s fine,” Meis blows it off, embarrassed. “It’s just somethin’ I’m working on. Not done yet.” 

“Well I can’t wait to hear more.” 

They look at each other lying on the concrete and not seeing past anything else, as if the world has shrunk to just them. 

Maybe it has.

Maybe it hasn’t.

Gueira doesn’t care either way. 

There is but a single inch between their arms where they lay on the pavement. A small gap that could so easily be overcome if he could just _move._ Meis’s hair is fanned out, exposing the side of his face few get to see. A special secret just for him. 

And it’s just as beautiful. 

Meis parts his lips just a tad, as if he’s about to speak. In response, Gueira holds his breath in anticipation for what he thinks could be happening. Does Meis feel it too? The way his heart is hammering in his chest? They way this feels so incredibly right? 

He waits, but Meis simply lets out a sigh and closes his mouth again. 

Guess he’s gonna have to step up, then. 

“Meis…” he whispers, full of reverence. 

“Yeah?”

“...”

Say it, coward. 

Come on. 

It would be so easy.

It’s just three words. Eight letters. Why is it so fucking hard to admit how much he loves the man in front of him?

The words are there, just on the cusp of his tongue, but they stay stubbornly locked in place, refusing to budge. 

He tries, he really does, a monumental effort. 

But instead, Gueira just smiles and thinks that if he could hold onto this moment forever, he would. 

“Never mind, I’ll tell you later.”

He never gets the chance. 

* * *

**“ASSHOLE!”** Gueira screeches, pouring every ounce of fury into it. Orange and red flames swirl up his forearms as he takes a massive swing at the man in front of him. 

It’s too big, too telegraphed, and Meis easily sidesteps it. Seizing the opportunity, Meis counters with an attack of his own: an electric blue rope of flame that tries to ensnare him. However, he underestimates Gueira’s overflowing power, and so Gueira grabs the rope and yanks with all his might, severing it right then and there. 

“Gonna have to try harder than that,” he quips, almost giggling with the high of his adrenaline and the pure rage filling him right now. 

This is Meis Denton, the youthful boy he once loved who left him out to dry. And now, even if they are back in each other’s lives, the stakes here are very different. This is not how he expected a reunion at this fabled location to go. 

He feels _ **betrayed.**_

“Gueira!” Meis shouts, trying to get his attention. Gueira blatantly ignores him. It’s like the fire roaring in his veins drowns out everything else, even his own twisted heart. Ignoring the summons, Gueira pushes off with his back foot and springs forward towards his combatant. Meis isn’t expecting such a quick and bold turnaround, and they collide. 

The momentum is enough to send them both careening over the edge of the parking structure in a wild flurry of fists and fire. In fact, it’s so quick and Gueira’s so engrossed in the battle that he only barely registers that they’re falling. Meis, however, does. (Thankfully.) 

With a quick flick of his wrist, a whip shoots out and wraps around a nearby streetlamp. It hooks and slows their fall enough that they don’t splatter upon the ground. Instead, they swing a little, carried by the whip grab, until they both land sprawled out on the sidewalk of the alley below.

Gueira’s thoroughly disoriented by the action, enough so that he’s still not quite back to himself when Meis rights himself. Coat billowing with the magic he summons around himself, swirling and screeching a discordant melody, he stands over Gueira’s prone form.

But as blue fire swarms his body, as he warms himself up for this final attack, Gueira pours every ounce of strength into his legs to pounce. Red lightning crackles up and down his form, filling him with power he didn’t even know he had. It’s enough for him to spring forth, aiming to tackle Meis right then and there before he can unleash whatever it is he’s about to do. The sheer power flowing through him explodes, leaving a decent crater in the sidewalk as he takes off towards Meis. 

He slams right into a wall, passing right through Meis’ visage. 

What the fuck? 

Dazed and thoroughly confused, Gueira lifts his head back from where it has embedded itself in the brick wall of a bank. Damn, he really is strong, huh? If only that power was directed at the right target. 

At the very least, he doesn’t feel that hurt. It seems he’s still got all his teeth and his nose isn’t broken. Then before he can fully recover from what was supposed to be his finisher move, before he can even comprehend how his attack missed, his hands are promptly tied together and cinched behind his back. 

“What the hell?” he squawks, still not understanding how he ended up in this predicament. He’s promptly tugged from the Gueira-shaped indent in the wall and finally, understands what happened.

There are two Meis’s. 

“The fuck?” he utters, before one image is completely dissolved into wisps of smoke. 

“You have no idea what you’re getting into…” Meis warns darkly, giving him a piercing glare.

“Why were there two of you? What?” Gueira is really, really fucking confused right now. He can’t be bothered to listen to another one of Meis’ lectures. He’s far too confused and pissed.

A small flame spirals from Meis’s fingertip, forming another image of himself in the air, dancing and weaving like a firefly. 

“You don’t know what you’re dealing with,” he continues, voice surprisingly subdued for the situation they’re in. 

**“FUCK OFF!”**

Meis doesn’t seem to like his vulgar rebuttal, and he yanks on the ropes encircling Gueira, pulling him backwards. 

“Shh,” he hushes. “I never meant for it to get like this…”

Gueira just growls back.

“I just want to talk,” Meis tries.

“ ** _Talk?!”_** he balks back. “What about this?” He struggles against the restraints on his wrists. “Could indicate talking? You fucking tied me up!” 

Meis’ eye, glowing with blue power, widens at his irate response. “I…”

“You,” Gueira accuses. “Were the one who said you’d fight me if it came down to it. I was just tryna do my job!” Orange crackles echo up his arms, still tightly bound behind his back.

“But it shouldn’t be your job!” Meis cracks slightly, some actual anger and emotion slipping out. “It shouldn’t have ever been!”

“But it _is!”_ he rebuts. “I’m Burnish whether you like it or not, Meis. That’s how things are now. You can’t change that. I. Am. Burnish.”

Meis flinches at the bluntness of his statement.

“And I’m gonna be the best damn hero this city’s ever seen! Defeating evil and saving lives! I’m going to fight for justice and save people!” 

Meis’s fire dims at that. “You really think so?” 

_“Think?”_ Gueira scoffs. “I fuckin’ know so. I know you’ve been tryna stop me since this whole thing started, but it’s just cuz you’re jealous.” He smirks. “Can’t say I blame ya. Look what I’ve done in only three days.” 

Meis shakes his head solemnly. “That was never the reason I-”

“Then what?” he challenges back. “Why don’t you want me to do this? Scared I’ll get hurt? _You’re_ the one that came after _me!_ I’m perfectly fucking capable of handlin’ shit myself!”

**“NO YOU’RE NOT!”** Meis shouts, chest suddenly heaving with the effort. Cold, emotionless, distant Meis is flaring up and it’s enough to throw even Gueira for a loop. 

“Uh…” He’s not sure what to do now. He’s still pissed, very much so, but this is not where he expected the conversation to go. Gueira’s always been a guy to punch out his problems, and so when Meis said he’d fight if that’s what it took, he just took the offering. It seemed like a good idea at the time. 

But now…

“Gueira, you have no fucking idea what you’ve done.” Meis is shaking his head like a disapproving parent. Gueira hates how it makes him feel. 

“Will you fuckin’ tell me then?” he asks, his voice significantly less fired up than it was before. “And let me go, too? C’mon dude. I’m not gonna run off. I’m not like _you.”_

“Oh, uh, right.” Meis doesn’t take the slight, or if he does, internalizes it. With a swipe of his hand, Gueira’s arms are freed and for a brief second, he almost takes the opportunity to knock Meis over and abandon all this. For fuck’s sake, there’s a daemon and-

But that single clear blue eye staring back at him stops him in his tracks. He’s not mad, he’s… guilty? Gueira is so fucking confused and still a little pissed and he just.

Gueira just wants answers at this point.

They’ve danced around each other far too much. There have been insults, punches, and flames hurled at one another for too long.

Meis says he wants to talk.

Maybe it’s time to actually have a civil conversation. 

And okay, maybe he’s been bitchy and instigated a lot of the hostility they’ve had for each other, but it wasn’t without reason! Meis came at him telling him what to do like nothing changed! What was he supposed to do?

Either way, he deserves some fucking answers. 

Gueira lowers his fists, letting the fire surrounding them simmer down until he’s just standing there as Gueira Valente, not as a Burnish. Meis quickly follows suit. 

“So can we talk?” Gueira asks, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. “Just tell me what the fuck is goin’ on. Please.” 

Meis nods. “Yes.”

Gueira follows in a blind trance, roaming the streets of Promepolis in the night like nothing has fundamentally changed.

Like it’s five years ago. 

But far too much time has passed for Gueira to be that optimistic. He’s here for answers, nothing more. What else is there to say? 

Meis finally stops when they’re deep in front of an old building with a sign falling off its hinges. It’s small, tucked in between stores and apartments and very unassuming. There are a few letters remaining on the facade, faded on canvas, and the cracked image of a record split down the middle. It’s been a long time, but Gueira remembers the spot vaguely from way back. 

“I’ve been here before,” he murmurs. 

Meis nods solemnly before stepping through a shattered glass door. “You have. It was my dad’s old studio.”

Hesitantly following Meis, Gueira also breaches the threshold and steps into the decrepit building. It looks like it hasn’t been touched, well, since the day they left.

When Meis went full radio silent, he’d stopped by once or twice to see if he could find out what happened, but no one was there. 

Eventually, he just gave up. 

There’s a layer of dust coating most every surface, save for a corner with some cushions and a few possessions and discarded bottles. 

He puts it together. “Have you been staying here?” 

Meis’s head falls, his curtain of hair covering his face. “It’s safer that way,” he answers. 

_The fuck does that mean?_ Gueira wonders to himself. 

“I mean, my place is pretty shit too,” he offers, trying to lighten this…whatever it is. “But at least it’s a _place.”_

“I don’t want your charity,” Meis quickly scoffs. “I’m fine.”

“Okay…” he unsteadily continues. “Stay in abandoned dust trap. Be my fuckin’ guest. Why are we here?”

Meis plops down in a seat that sends up a cloud of dust that makes Gueira sneeze.

“Does it have to be here? My allergies suck, man.”

“It’s important,” is the only response he gets. What is with Burnish and dancing around straightforward answers? Seriously, he’s had enough of this.

With a heaving sigh, and rather than lowering himself to sitting on cushions that haven’t seen use in half a decade, Gueira leans against a wall. 

“So what now?” he asks impatiently. He’s got daemon duty to handle (and they also both kinda abandoned Galo) and he just wants this over with and-

Wait, shit. Galo! 

_“He’s alright. Lio Fotia vanquished the daemon,”_ Kraybey’s voice comes through. That’s a relief, mostly. At least that one is gone. Leaving Galo alone with Lio Fotia isn’t great, either, but it’s not like Gueira can do anything about that now. He just hopes Galo isn’t like, kidnapped or something by that emo twink.

Meis fishes around in his jacket, pulling out a flask and taking a long sip for some liquid courage, it seems. He offers it up to Gueira, who takes a hefty swig of whiskey, he thinks, before returning it. It burns nicely.

“Do you know why I left?” Meis finally asks, his deep Southern drawl in full force. 

“Well, yeah…” Gueira admits. “I know why you left initially: to help your dad get set up in Nashville. I just don’t know why you didn’t come back. Or call me. Or, I don’t know, _anything?!”_

Meis sighs deeply, sending dust swirling through the air. “I didn’t want you to get involved.”

“In what?” 

Meis gestures vaguely. “This. Burnish. It’s dangerous.”

“I know that!” he fires back. “But you’re still here. And so am I. We can take care of ourselves. And someone’s gotta fight the daemons, right? And you got a wish out of it!”

Meis recoils at the mention of his wish. “You said you wished for your brother, right?” he asks slowly. 

“Yeah, and he’s happy, so it was worth it. He’s starting quarterback now, y’know? He’s over the moon about it,” Gueira answers proudly. Because, yeah, he did wish for someone else, and it made them happy. He’s proud to spend his wish that way.

Meis, on the other hand, doesn’t appear to see it that way. He regards Gueira with a long, melancholy stare, then shakes his head. 

“You don’t know what’s gonna-”

He’s _had it._

“STOP BEING FUCKIN’ CRYPTIC AND TALK TO ME, DAMMIT!” Gueira shouts, breaking their tenuous ceasefire. “Meis, I haven’t seen you in five fucking years, you never talk to me, never tell me what the fuck happened, and now you’re a Burnish, fighting daemons, living in your dad’s abandoned studio?? Just-! What the fuck happened? GET TO THE POINT!”

Gueira heaves after his outburst, letting his words hang in the air. He didn’t mean to break so abruptly, he’s just sick of non-answers and being yanked around with a blindfold on.

It seems he’s finally gotten through, as Meis lets his head hang briefly before lifting it resolutely. “You’re right. I’ll tell you.”

“Good,” he huffs back.” 

Meis touches the obsidian triangle etched into his left arm. Blue flames spiral from it, forming dancing shapes around the room. 

“I didn’t know you could do that…” he says as he watches mini versions of himself and Meis flutter around the room.

“Illusion magic,” Meis answers, twisting the faces of the visages to turn into frowning marionettes. “It’s my specialty.”

“Huh.”

“Do you know why?”

“No? Can ya tell me?”

Meis nods once. The flames coalesce around him, waiting to shape into puppets to tell this story.

“My dad always wanted to be music star. Music runs in our family. His father played, and his father before him. The Denton line is well known in Dallas. Ask anyone in DFW, from Waxahachie to Wylie: the Dentons are grand ole country crooners.”

He sighs. “But Dad wanted more than that. Texas was great and all, but Dad… He wanted to travel the world singing and writing songs that would be heard by everyone. He wanted to play the best venues in the world, wanted to bring his work to as many ears as possible. And well, hell, I wanted him to achieve that dream, too. So when I was twelve, we left Dallas to come here. Dad bought this studio with the last money he had left and with some help from my older brother, Tommy.” 

The magic swirls to show a family of three excitedly moving into the small studio space. Each person is represented by marionette-like doll, all wearing big, eager smiles. After a pause, the illusion shifts to one of the dolls sitting on a stool in the recording studio, guitar in hand, singing alone. The other two sit outside, watching proudly.

Gueira knows that music was a big part of Meis’ life, knew it even back then. But he didn’t know how deeply these things ran. For once, he has enough wit about him to keep his mouth shut and let Meis continue.

“Dad was super talented. Best I ever heard. You never got a chance to hear him, but he was incredible.” Meis sighs longingly. “He was the most talented musician I ever knew. Better than me by a fuckin’ mile. His songs hit in a way mine never could. He let some local talent use the studio and made some money that way. In the meantime, he crafted his own EP as well. After a few years, he managed to secure a meeting in Nashville. It was HUGE. Dad was gonna show it to some producers, finally get recognized. This was his big break. We were over the moon.”

The tallest doll excitedly holds a CD in their hands, running towards a plane. The other puppets cheer and wave as they look on.

“He took it to Nashville, performed a bit in the bar scenes. Tommy and I were so proud. We thought he’d finally hit it big. It was everything we’d asked for. But of course, things didn’t work out. Not like you think they will.”

The puppet now wears a large frown on its face, sulking back towards the others. They console him, tears streaking their wooden faces. “He came back, soured and dejected. They’d all refused to even consider him. Said he was too old. Didn’t have the _Look.”_

Meis scoffs, sneering. “I thought it was impossible. How could they not see what I saw? Were we not listening to the same music? It should’ve been _him_ on that stage. But nope, no one cared to listen. No one cared to give a single shit. And that _hurt_. Real fuckin’ bad. And what do you do when things hurt?” He lifts the flask into the air. “You drink it away.”

Meis lowers the flask back down, taking a long, poignant swig. “Tommy left after a big fight with ‘em. I was sixteen. They screamed at each other till the mornin’ and then he sped off. Didn’t see him for two and a half years. I was still in school, so I was stuck here.”

The three puppets become two, one laying on a couch, barely reacting. The other looks on silent and saddened.

“Fuck…” Gueira whispers under his breath. Sure, he and Meis were close in high school, but… But he had no idea about any of this! He never knew about the turmoil behind Meis’s life… He just thought he was quiet! And liked staying at his place more! How did he miss all of this?

“I thought _‘if only people would listen to his music, then maybe he wouldn’t run himself into the ground.’_ We were almost evicted, twice. Did you know that?”

Gueira, wide-eyed and thoroughly startled, shakes his head.

“Didn’t think so. I kept it all hidden from y’all. You, Adrian, all of ‘em. Didn’t wanna burden y’all with my shit. It was _my_ life; I needed to fix it.” 

Gueira frowns. “You know I would’ve supported you. We all woulda.” He feels the need to defend himself here because fuck, Meis was going through all this shit and he didn’t know? Now _he_ feels guilty.

“Gueira, I appreciate it, but it doesn’t matter now.”

He’s right, and Gueira knows it. Nothing more to say, Meis continues with the story.

“One day, I almost couldn’t take it anymore. Dad was passed out, drunk on the couch, and I knew if I didn’t do something, he’d die. Kraybey appeared to me as if they heard my plea. All I wanted was for my dad to get the recognition he deserved. I wished for it, and it worked. The next day, we got a call from Tennessee. They changed their minds. Wanted him on the label.” 

“That’s when you left,” Gueira realizes.

“Yep. Senior year. I was already Burnish at that point. Planned to help him get settled there before gettin’ my own music education. ‘Cept there was a lot I hadn’t accounted for. A lot.”

The Meis-doll is all fired up now, flames enveloping him as he whips illusionary daemons away. The other doll is happy again, it’s frown turned upside-down.

“I stayed with him in Nashville, helping him record by day, fightin’ daemons by night. Tommy and him kinda made up. It was good… for a while.” Meis’ face darkens in the shadows of the unlit studio, highlighted by his azure flames. “I learned that sometimes, your wish isn’t what you think it is. What you wish for isn’t what you truly want.”

“I had wished for my father’s music to be famous, and that wish was granted. But that’s not really what I wanted, was it? I wanted Dad to be okay, to go back to being with me and Tommy and himself again. It was selfish. That’s what wishes are, Gueira.” He narrows his eyes, piercing through the dusty darkness. “Inherently selfish.”

“But I wished to help Jason!” Gueira throws back, indignant. “How was that selfish?”

“Did you truly want him to be excelling on that field?”

“Of course!”

“Or,” Meis continues. “Did you really wish it was you?”

Gueira’s stunned by the accusation, unable to formulate a response. Who does he think he is, accusing Gueira of such a selfish act? How dare he! Gueira silently fumes as Meis, however, seemed undeterred and continues on with his story.

“I wished for my father’s music to be noticed. And it was. Except, it was only that: his music. We found out they only wanted him for his songwriting, not his singing. Kraybey had tricked me, fooled me completely. Dad had had his taste of fame only to have it ripped away and given to a hot young stud to sing.”

The larger doll sulks, looking longingly at another with a guitar on stage.

“I felt so bad about it that I came clean to him about the whole thing. The wish, the Burnish, all of it. I assured him that it would come. I mean, hell, I had willed it into existence! Why wasn’t it working?” 

Meis-doll returns to frowny face, the fires around him turning a darker, angrier blue.

“I didn’t realize that telling him all his praise was fake would break him like it did. He couldn’t believe me; said I had fooled them all. I tried to call Tommy, hopin’ he’d help. In a fit, dad ran off to the Orpheum Theater, where Brett Anderson was set to perform Dad’s music that night.”

The third doll returns, following the larger into a theater. There’s an ominous feeling to the air now.

“We went inside, me and Tommy, to try and find him. He was drunk, understandably upset, and we tried to our best to coax him out of it. Except he wouldn’t take it. He cried out he was a fake, that no one had ever truly loved him or his music. Blamed us for Mom leaving and… That stung. He kept on yelling that that he was all fake, every last bit of him.”

The flamers turn somber and agitated around the doll family as the oldest takes the stage.

“Dad took the microphone and started singing. It was his favorite song, the one he wrote about Mom leavin’. He sang it better than I’d ever heard, tears spilling down his face. When the last note vibrated over the empty theater, I couldn’t take it. I ran out, guilty and hurt and knowing that I did this. I was responsible. I’m a _coward_ , Gueira.”

Meis’ voice aches, and Gueira swears his eyes are getting misty. Fuck, this is heavy shit and totally not what he expected.

“Tommy followed me, for once trying to be the mediator, but…”

There’s a brilliant flash of light and the flames intensify rapidly. Gueira can feel the heat.

“Lights sparked in the electrical room. Set the curtains ablaze. And Dad, he…”

The smiling face, laden with tears is completely enveloped in the flames.

“And Tommy, well he must’ve felt guilty too, because he also ran in. Trying to be a hero and make up for what he did and I… I followed.”

The two other dolls rush in, there’s another flash of flame, and then only one remains.

“The only reason I survived was because I’m immune to fire,” Meis laughs darkly to himself. “I had to watch it all happen.”

Meis-doll looks at a pile of rubble and sobs. Gueira himself chokes on his words of sympathy, of pity, of anything. He can’t begin to fathom what he’s hearing and seeing. It’s so tragic, so fucked up, but it’s real. He can tell every word Meis has said is true.

“They say it was an accident, but…” Meis trails off. “Who knows.”

“I’m sorry,” Gueira suddenly blurts out, because fuck, he’s gotta say _something._

Meis nods once, acknowledging the words but little else.

“’Apollo Denton died that night, along with his son Thomas Denton, and two stage crew,’” Meis recites from memory. “It was news, but apparently not big enough news to matter, because no one here knew or cared. But I knew. Knew that I was the one responsible for the death of my family and some innocent bystanders.” 

The flames around the last remaining puppet take on a more vibrant, determined hue.

“After that, I came back here to hunt daemons and nothing else. I told myself that anyone who would try to get close to me would die. It’s a curse. You can’t wish for happiness without getting burned in return. I couldn’t try to fight for justice or what’s right or any of that bullshit. I would fight daemons, take what I needed, and live. I wouldn’t make attachments, and I wouldn’t let others get in my way. If I was cursed to survive my horrific experience, then I figured I might as well make the most of the sentence I’d been given. I eventually left Promepolis for better hunting grounds, leavin’ the rest of y’all behind.”

“Meis…” Gueira nearly whimpers.

“You never can know what someone truly wants, or what your wish truly means,” Meis warns. “And if you try to delude yourself into thinking you do, you’ll only get burned. That is-” he humorlessly laughs. “If you could even get burned anymore.”

“So that’s why you avoided me… Why you didn’t say anything…” Gueira understands. “But fuck dude, why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you reach out? I was here wondering what the fuck happened to you! I could’ve helped! Why didn’t you say something?”

“Why?” Meis bristles. “If you’re still asking that, then you didn’t listen to a single fucking word I just said.” 

“I did listen,” he retorts. “Look, I know you’re trying to protect me; I get it. This is dangerous shit we’re in.”

“So you do know how to listen, then.”

“Yeah, I do, but you need to listen, too,” Gueira declares.

Meis is taken aback by the combative response. Look, Gueira didn’t mean to get pissed, but he’s got stuff to say too.

“We're not the same. I made my wish to help Jason and he’s happy. I’m not gonna…” he fumbles for the right words. “I’m not gonna cut everyone off and live just for me ‘cause of some inane ‘protection’ shit. Or some balance of good and evil.”

“Gueira!”

“Listen! Why should I cut everyone off? Why should I not fight for all I can? I have these amazing powers and I’m gonna do all I can to help people with them! I’m gonna protect them by doing my fucking job of defeating daemons and familiars and being a fuckin’ hero. That’s the kinda guy I am!”

“Did you listen to me or not?” Meis accuses.

“I did!” he rebuts. “Listen, Meis, what happened to you was fucked us. It was. I’m not denying that at all. I’m truly sorry that happened to you. No one should have to go through that.”

“But you know what else is fucked up? This world. Everything. You can’t let one horrific thing fuck you up for the rest of your life when you can do good with it! Being Burnish is a big responsibility, I get that. But you can’t just project your failings onto me!” 

Gueira lets the last part slip accidentally, and it hits far too hard. Meis flinches.

“Wait, sorry!” Gueira quickly tries to recover. Fuck, he didn’t mean it like that! He just- “I’m sorry Meis I-!”

Meis’ expression hardens to before he abruptly turns his head away. 

“Go,” he says. “Just go.”

Gueira can already tell this isn’t a fight he should pursue. He relents.

“Sorry,” he apologizes once more.

Then he leaves. 

* * *

The next morning, Gueira is a mishmash of several emotions, but the common denominator of all them is anger. He’s pissed off. 

At Meis, for stopping what could’ve been his first daemon kill and then for trying to shove his beliefs on him. And for not reaching out to him when his life was spiraling out of control in high school and after. 

At Kraybey, for tricking and twisting Meis’ wish into tragedy. For trapping them all in this contract. 

At the world, for being as cruel and fucked up as it is. 

But mostly at himself, for not seeing any of it, not realizing what was going on behind the scenes. They were close, weren’t they? Gueira thought they were, back then. Meis would come to all of his games despite his own blatant disinterest in team sports, Gueira would listen to his angelic voice croon over whatever new song he’d been working on, they’d shoot the shit on the weekends downtown. They spent a lot of time together (often at Gueira’s place, his mom loved Meis) and fuck, they were friends. Close friends. Sure, Meis never talked about his home life much other than mentioning his dad’s studio and the supposed “big break”, but _still_. And he’d mentioned his brother a few times. Gueira had even met him once, briefly.

But to think all that was going on without him noticing. Is he that unobservant? That unaware? That one of the most important people in his life, the person he was in love with, was hurting so deeply? 

And then, to hear the most horrific, tragic story and to turn around and accidentally hurt him.

He’s mad at himself. 

Guilty, more like. 

If he had noticed any of that, known how Meis and his dad were struggling, then maybe he could’ve done something. He’s not sure what, but he feels mighty upset for letting it all go unnoticed. 

Meis probably thought he didn’t want to bring others down, that he was responsible for fixing his own issues. 

_Asshole, you didn’t realize you could share that burden._

He feels like an ass for what he said at the end there. It slipped out accidentally, he didn’t mean to call Meis a failure. He was just trying to say that not everyone is going to suffer the way Meis did. He’s trying to protect Gueira from getting hurt, but he has no idea of what his situation is. Meis’ life spiraled into tragedy, left him broken and jaded about the world. But who is he to hide Gueira from the world just so he won’t suffer the same fate?

Gueira’s too strong to let the same happen to him. He’s only been Burnish for a few days now, and he’s already so powerful. He can feel the newfound strength pulsing in his veins. All those guys who sneered at his scrawniness, his lankiness, well they haven’t fought a daemon, have they? 

Meis might be trying to look out for him, but Gueira can take care of himself. He’s gonna be the best Burnish that ever lived. He’s gonna use this power for good.

It’s finally everything that he’s wanted. 

Gueira opens the door to his favorite gym, hoping some weights and cardio will do something to subdue the tumultuous feelings in his gut. Punching might help too. Punching always helps. Especially not that he can punch literal daemons. Actually, now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t tested his new strength at the gym since he made his wish. 

Galo’s there too. Gueira texted him to meet there since they haven’t had a chance to talk since Gueira kinda sorta abandoned him last night. He feels a little bad about that. And also wants to make sure Lio didn’t do something to him. 

“Hey,” he greets as Galo sits at a row. He takes the spot next to him, doing a lat pull. 

“Hey!” Galo’s chipper voice replies back. He finishes his set and turns to face him. “How are ya doing?”

“Well...” That’s a loaded fucking question, Galo. He’s not sure where to even start. “Alright? I guess? Sorry about uh, last night.” 

Galo’s face softens a bit. “It’s okay, man. I’m glad you’re alright. And I uh…” He gets an almost sheepish look on his face, cheeks tinging pink from more than just exertion. “I got to talk to Lio.” 

Lio, again. At this point, Gueira doesn’t even try to hide the massive eye roll he gives back. He’s tried to warn him, tried to get Galo to see that Lio’s obviously out there to manipulate all of them, but he’s too far gone.

Hell, he was too far gone that _first day._

Something about Lio is far too enticing to Galo, almost to a supernatural degree. It blinds him to the facts that Gueira can see: that Lio is obviously pulling strings and manipulating Galo to keep him from stealing turf. No amount of pretty eyelash bats or poetic words can convince him.

He wanted to kick Lio’s ass even before all the Thyma stuff. Well, hey, now he can. It’s an even playing field now. Maybe it would be cathartic, finally getting to tell that twink to fuck off and leave his best friend alone. 

“Oh yeah? What’d he say? More threats?” Gueira asks with an acidic edge to his tongue. 

“No,” Galo answers almost defensively. “You know, he’s not what you think. He’s kind and… I think he’s had a rough time. Lio _cares._ And I-” Galo’s face goes almost full tomato. Gueira can guess as to why. 

To be honest, he wouldn’t be surprised if Galo’s already fucking the Burnish. Well, whatever they are, he’s still gonna make sure Galo’s okay. If Galo can’t see the danger he’s throwing himself into, then Gueira’ll have to protect him himself. 

Galo shakes his head to clear it. “Point is: I don’t think he’s an enemy.”

Gueira shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

Galo frowns. “Why do you think that? Why don’t you trust him?” 

“Well, geez, Galo. Maybe because of everything he’s done every time I’ve seen him? The fact that he’s trying to keep you from making a contract so that he can keep the loot for himself? The fact that he doesn’t care who gets hurt so long as he gets what he wants? You saw what happened with Thyma.” 

Gueira unloads it all because he was already so on edge from all the Meis shit. Galo lit a match by mentioning Lio when Gueira was already a powder keg ready to explode. But he doesn’t deserve that. 

“Sorry, I’m just a little pissed off right now,” he excuses lamely. “And I just don’t have evidence for trusting Lio. That’s all.”

Galo gives the white wall ahead of them a good long stare. “I think he’s sad, Gueira. Really sad.” 

“Aren't we all?” he huffs back, then sighs. “Okay, sorry. Meis just fucked with me last night.” 

Galo tears his gaze away from the mesmerizing wall to look at his friend again. “How so? I mean, the last thing I saw was you two going over the edge. Like proverbially _and_ literally.”

Gueira winces. “Yeah, but we were fine. I’m too strong now to get beaten by some bitchass fall!!” He dramatically flexes. 

“And then what happened?” Galo continues. 

“I won! Of course!” Gueira declares proudly. 

Galo gives him a skeptical eyebrow raise until he finally snorts and relents. “Okay, fine, no. Meis tricked me and caught me off guard. But otherwise I woulda had him! Totally! He was on the ropes!”

“Uh huh.”

“Yeah! And then, well…” Gueira rubs at his arm. “He told me some stuff and said I shouldn’t be a Burnish. Which like, that’s not his choice to make, y’know?” He gives a hefty sigh. “We talked a lot and I said some shit and he said some shit and yeah.”

“So where do you guys stand now?” Galo asks. 

“Honestly?” Gueira answers. “I don’t know. I think he’s pissed at me. I… might be at him? I dunno.” 

“Oh.” 

“Listen, can we just drop it for now? I came here to get away from all that.” 

“Oh right! Of course!” Galo nods his head vigorously. 

“Plus,” Gueira grins, all teeth. “I wanna see how much I can press now.” 

It turns out that’s a lot. More weight is added and added and Gueira lifts it all with ease. To the point where he thinks Galo’s messing with him. But no, he’s reassured that he really is lifting that much. 

“Damn,” Gueira whistles, good mood thoroughly returned. “Who knew Burnish were this strong?” 

“Actually!” Kraybey’s voice appears. “It is due to the nature of your wish. You wished to make someone stronger, so your magic is based in strength.”

“That so?” Gueira muses, rubbing his chin. “That’s good to know.” 

“If you beat my record, I’m gonna be so pissed,” Galo grumbles, heaving himself over to the press. 

Gueira beats it with a confident wink and gets a middle finger from Galo. 

All in all, the gym does help, all things considered. He strolls into practice with a confident grin on his face as he finds Jason huddled with a group of his teammates. He gives his brother a big smile and wave and runs over. 

“Gay! Did you hear? I’m starting tomorrow!” Jason excitedly tells him, practically vibrating in his cleats. 

“Yeah!” Gueira claps a hand on his shoulder pad. “Weird how you’re feeling so much better, huh?” 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Dad seems to think it’s just my growth spurt finally happening! But I feel SO GOOD!” He fist pumps the air in a show of confidence. “It’s amazing, Gay.”

His crimson eyes are sparkling and it fills Gueira with such pride that he doesn’t care if Lio Fotia is trying to sabotage and manipulate Galo or that Meis is trying to stop him from being a successful Burnish. It doesn't matter that he’s now juggling this additional major responsibility with the rest of his life or that he still, deep down, has not a single fucking clue what he’s doing. 

It’s worth it. 

As Jason accepts the hike and throws a perfect pass to his receiver down the field, it’s worth it. As he takes the ball himself in hand and runs it in for a touchdown without looking a single bit winded, it’s worth it. 

How could creating such happiness be a mistake? 

* * *

After practice and another round of high-fives for Jason, Gueira departs to tackle his next round of daemon hunting. He’s riding the high of seeing the results of his wish, and he won’t let some other Burnish bring it down. He’s not gonna let Meis or Lio fuck with him right now. He’s gonna do his fucking job and be the best at it. He pounds a fist into his hand as he gets ready to leave his apartment.

Part of him feels a little guilty for declining Jason’s invite to head over for dinner, but being Burnish takes precedence. He hasn’t managed to defeat one on his own yet, and what that means is he’s in need of a Frost Core. Plus, protecting his family is more important than having dinner with them, right? He’s responsible for the safety of Promepolis now! He can’t rely on Lio’s cryptic agenda or Meis’ confrontational “protection” to get the job done. 

Thyma was a true fighter for the people and for justice. She was a bright beacon of light that lit up the darkest parts of Promepolis, and now that she is out, someone has to fill that void. Or people are gonna get hurt. 

Gueira might not be the strongest, he might be super new and still figuring out how all this works, but if he doesn’t step up, then who will? This is _his_ responsibility.

Gueira takes a deep breath, gritting his teeth in anticipation of what’s to come, and opens his door. He takes the stairs nearly two at a time, hyping himself up for the hunt and not letting his worries catch up to him. 

To his surprise, someone is waiting at the bottom of the staircase for him. It’s not one of the Burnish he’s been trying to avoid, either.

It’s Galo. 

“Hey. I figured you might want some backup?” he offers, Matoi in hand, Kraybey on his shoulder. 

Gueira nods in return. “Sure, stay close though.” Part of him wonders if that is the only reason he’s tagging along, but he’s not about to interrogate his friend while daemon hunting. He’s gotta keep his focus on the magic in front of him. 

The red glow, though it is a little colder than before, still gives enough of a pull to lead him in a direction. They follow it down the streets and into the night until the people they pass become sparser and sparser. Eventually, the heat within his Soul Flare grows, and Gueira feels a true tangible pull in the direction of the river. 

“I got one! Let’s go!” he announces to Galo, who nods in return. They haven’t spoken much during their trek, each content to focus on their task. With his utterance of the pull, Galo perks up from where he was deep in thought and follows with Kraybey close behind. 

Gueira tracks the pull until it stops him in the middle of a footpath on a bridge. They’re above a dizzying drop, with cars passing by on the sides. This is absolutely a dangerous place for a labyrinth to open up, since there’s nowhere to escape. What if it destroyed this whole bridge? Or made someone… jump off? 

The thought is too terrible to think about, and Gueira stops just as they reach the apex of the bridge. His Soul Flare shines brightly, indicating they’ve arrived. Gueira still can’t quite make out where the daemon exactly is - that is, until he spots it in a place he’d never expect. 

Way, way off the ground. Hovering over the river.

“How am I gonna get there?” he asks aloud. 

“Hm, that is certainly a difficult location,” Kraybey responds. “But for someone like you-”

“I’ll get it,” a deep voice cuts them off. Gueira knows who it is. Who else could it be? 

Standing on the footbridge, staring him down with no indication of backing down is Meis Denton. 

He’s sick of it. 

“Oh that’s _it.”_

He’s sick of this guy showing up like he didn’t mess it up. Claiming that he knows better. Claiming that he’ll stop Gueira from making the same mistakes. 

They're not the same person. 

Gueira will just have to show him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: more shit goes down. We also get back to Galo & Lio! 
> 
> Also thank u van for letting me borrow your oc just to murder him tragically. You're a real friend, lmao. 
> 
> That chapter will ~hopefully~ be out in two weeks. I'd love to get back to my biweekly updates. It might take a bit longer, but I really wanna try! Chapter 10 was just really hard to get through but the following ones I think will be easier. Fingers crossed! 🤞
> 
> Thank you all for your support of this fic! And for all your patience! Thank you all!!! I love comments and kudos and such 😘
> 
> Lio: [ design](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1264339475385090050) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5VR2kBUeDcKUV8xbkL2UGZ?si=uKUjQHa_RrOykBTKUZ6XDw)  
> Galo: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465576312369152) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0sNtLmDzN7dB5tEqFqIU7l?si=8Wg7RFO7SPehRXTKXZvA2g)  
> Gueira: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465651881062400) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6doiKEiNKOID9NLayErpKC?si=HbCakW2XTLKWOPtORYp0uw)  
> Meis: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465759079120898) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1JHJ0Q1ItSkbm01YThTMtI?si=RHolpgxLRma0h9ZmtkiORg)  
> Thyma: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465852272373760) | [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/32v0MxGX2hB5pYRNkYUIy8?si=AvZkfR4KRpGMTeB57SO0ZA)  
> Kraybey: [ design ](https://twitter.com/purblegmventurs/status/1265465957163495424)
> 
> Hit me up here or on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/ashesfadein2gay) or my [ curiouscat! ](https://curiouscat.me/jabbles)
> 
> See you soon! 💕

**Author's Note:**

> Just a dream? Or something else? 
> 
> This is only just a "teaser trailer" of sorts. I will be working on more chapters in the coming days. Expect another chapter probably sometime in June. I just need to get some headway on writing before I post any more. Also 15 chapters is just a guess who knows how many it'll be. 
> 
> [ My twitter ](https://twitter.com/ashesfadein2gay)   
>  [ My curiouscat ](https://curiouscat.me/jabbles)
> 
> Kudos and comments are very appreciated! I hope you like this little taste of this AU!  
> Thank you for reading! 💖


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